


the seeker

by literatiangel



Category: Gilmore Girls
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Developing Friendships, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Hitchhiking, Literati, On the Run, Road Trips, Romance, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-04
Updated: 2020-09-12
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:47:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 31,782
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24954787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/literatiangel/pseuds/literatiangel
Summary: "I ran thinking something was missing from my life. Now I know it was true".In which Rory Gilmore takes a road trip after her freshman year of college hoping to find herself, but ends up finding so much more in an unlikely acquaintance.
Relationships: Rory Gilmore & Jess Mariano, Rory Gilmore/Jess Mariano
Comments: 38
Kudos: 61





	1. realization (prologue)

_everything carries me to you, as if everything that exists,_

_aromas, lights, metals,_

_were little boats_

_thats sail_

_toward those isles of your that wait for me._

[Neruda]

College is and isn’t what Rory Gilmore expected. It is because the classes make her happy, because her professors seem to be filled endlessly with knowledge, because she always dreamed of _this_ , because she finds it a challenge, and what she tackles, she conquers. It _isn’t_ because she doesn’t seem to be conquering it. Instead, she finds herself struggling, and who has _ever_ seen Rory Gilmore struggle?

She’s failing. She feels it throughout her body, a sinking feeling that does not go away easily. It makes her feel tight, as if someone was pressing on her stomach, her lungs, her heart and throat and wouldn’t let go. Exasperation fills her, as well as tears. She _cannot_ be failing. Her grandfather took five classes when he went to Yale, _why can’t she?_

All of these years, everyone around her has made her feel as if she was this fabulous, invencible being, as if nothing could go wrong. Next thing she knows, she has taken a step into the real world and it seems to be slapping her, making fun of her for thinking she was perfect. She’s angry. Why had nothing before prepared her for this? She backpacked through Europe, for god’s sake, she’s got to have some experience in the reality department! But she doesn’t. She’s afraid this won’t be last time she feels like this. If she can’t deal with college, how is she supposed to deal with rejection later in life? When she doesn’t make it into The Times? When she does not become the next Christiane Amanpour? 

She thinks about all of it and feels utterly dizzy. Nothing makes sense at the moment. She wants to be the best. She _has_ to be the best. She has been nothing but trained to be the best. Everyone has always pushed her to be the best. Except now, she realizes life’s not only about studying. It isn’t about reading every book in the world, neither is it about doing every extra credit assignment that comes her way. It isn’t about raising your hand first when a professor asks something or about going into the most expensive private schools to succeed, and although it _is_ about focus, it shouldn’t be an obstacle towards facing reality. 

Now, Rory’s faced with reality, realizing college is not about knowing by heart every piece of information, but also about personality, about being able to manage what life throws your way, about dealing with the pressure. It is about walking out of your comfort zone, taking risks, accepting when things don’t go as planned. Now, Rory’s plans aren’t going as expected, and she’s got to drop a class. Now, Rory feels useless, pretty sure that dropping a class is almost as bad as the apocalypse. Now, she thinks about the times she’s taken risks, and realizes she can’t think of any other than shoplifting cornstarch when she was sixteen and asking out a guy in the laundry room (and getting rejected) a few months back. 

She thinks about all of this as she makes her way to The Dragonfly Inn, bound to open in a couple months. She walks up the stairs and goes inside, looking for her mother, desperately needing a hug. She walks in frenetically and… she can’t find her, but finds her ex-boyfriend instead. 

She quickly remembers when they broke up during her senior year of high school, Dean mad at her because of how much time she was putting into getting into Harvard (which later changed to Yale) and she afraid that they would eventually grow apart once she went away. It was the better thing to do, and a little while later, he was already dating someone else. Now, he is married. The thought makes her uncomfortable, almost sick to her stomach, but she shakes it away once she sees him moving towards her and asking what’s going on. 

And then she rambles. She has no idea herself of what she’s saying, god, she’s sure none of it is making any sense at all, but she _has_ to get it all out. They walk outside and next thing she knows, she’s breaking down, telling him everything that’s on her mind, all of those things about being a failure, how she’s not capable of taking five classes as “everybody else”. She breaks down and he listens. She breaks down and he hugs her close, the feeling all too familiar. She breaks down, and for a moment, they’re together. She breaks down and he is hers once again.

* * *

The heat of May has made its way to Stars Hollow. The sun shines brightly in the sky, flowers are blossoming and the air feels lighter. Rory feels lighter. She has accepted that in order to remain alive, she needs to take off a bit of the pressure college brings along, and is ready to leave Yale, her freshman year over. She’s happy… at least she thinks she is. But something is missing. Now, she’s started to take more risks (she even went to Florida on spring break with Paris and a couple other friends — it did not end well), but still, something’s not complete. _She_ is not complete. 

Rory always thought that college would make her feel complete (this itchy feeling that something is missing has been poking her for long), but now that she’s made her way into Yale, she realizes she’s feeling even more lost. She has indeed lost a piece of herself. When did it happen? The question turns darker; what if she never had it? She shakes the feeling, tries to forget about it. But it won’t go away.

She should be happy, after all, it’s an important occasion —The Dragonfly Inn’s test run—, but she can’t stop feeling something pressing down on her gut, enough to make her uncomfortable. So at the first chance she gets to go away, even for a few minutes, she does. 

She goes home to get some CDs her mother asked for. She feels better now that she’s alone, as if something has been lifted off her now that she’s by herself.

It doesn’t last long. There’s a knock on the back door. The noise startles her, pulling her back to reality. She can’t be alone, not here, not at all. She’ll never be. She pulls the door open and… it’s Dean who’s standing on the other side, wearing a nervous smile. She tries to feel happy about it, after all, they’ve been spending much more time together now, getting closer again; something sparkling between them. Or that’s what she wants to believe, anyways. Somehow, deep inside, she knows she just feels lonely, but when she’s with him, she aches for that loneliness again. Maybe, if they get together again, instead of circling around this every time they see each other, she won’t feel that way. Maybe, what she’s aching for, is to be with him again. 

She tries to convince herself that that’s what is going on. She tries to, until Dean follows her into her room; she tries until he starts talking and she knows it’s _wrong_. They almost kissed today, and that was okay at the moment, but once he starts talking about it, she feels utterly uncomfortable. She regrets it, even though it did not actually happen. She feels like a foreign being in her own skin, unable to recognize any of her actions. She moves and speaks almost automatically, trying to be polite to Dean, not making a big deal of it until he starts getting closer, and closer, and she’s forced to pull out of this automatic daze she’s fallen into. 

They argue, and he looks disappointed, and she just _knows_ he wanted _more_ , and she also knows now how much she does not want him. Now she understands she wasn’t aching for them to be together, but instead, for it to be over already. And luckily, it quickly is, as he leaves mad, with a determined step.

She thinks about what could have happened, what was about to happen, and she cringes. Later on, she cries.

* * *

Rory spends the night thinking. She tosses from one side to the other on her tiny bed, pulling the sheets with her. She sits, then lays down again to try to sleep. She simply can’t. The feeling she had about missing something has grown. She sighs soundly and sits up again, thinking. 

And somehow, something clicks in her head. She remembers how she felt before, relieved to be alone at last, and how once she realized she would never be alone here, in Stars Hollow, something deep inside her felt disappointed. It’s not just the fact that she needs to be away on her own, but the fact that she’s certain she needs to do so in order to find what she’s looking for. She can’t find it here, not where everyone knows her and everyone admires her, she can’t find it here because everyone keeps telling her what to and what not to do. She needs to go somewhere else, be herself for once, take that risk, find the piece she’s missing. She needs to go somewhere people have no clue who she is and do not care if she’s doing the right thing, somewhere people will not tell her she’s perfect. Because after tonight, she’s completely sure she’s not this perfect being. She was about to kiss her married ex-boyfriend. A married man. And it wasn’t only going to be a kiss, it was going to be so much more. 

She can’t take it, and so, she stands up and walks to her desk. She fidgets with a pen for a bit, then decides to get working on her escape; she wanted to take risks, didn’t she? Now’s she’s going to take a real risk, not just being pulled into some risk taking by someone else. No. This time, it’s going to be all her. This time, she’s made a choice. 

The next morning, Lorelai is sitting in the kitchen when Rory wakes up. It is around ten. She is reading a magazine with great concentration, but looks up once Rory exits her room.

"Hey hun, how are you feeling?" she asks sweetly, with a soft smile. _She's going to miss her so, so much once she leaves. She’s also going to make a big deal out of this._

Rory doesn't make any eye contact, instead, just walks towards the fridge and takes out a carton of juice. "I'm okay", she replies softly. Lorelai presses her lips into a fine line and then nods, looking back at her magazine, then closing it again, keeping a finger in to mark the page she was reading. 

"You know," Lorelai starts, shifting her body towards Rory and speaking a mile per minute, trying to cheer her daughter up, "I've been thinking about it and I think we should get a duck. Just think how cool it would be to give him small shoes, and a tiny hat -maybe a purse to go with it-, a scarf, and show him the ways of our world. We could take him shopping, have people stare at us like we're crazy, but we obviously are not because, hello, the duck has shoes, his feet are protected, he's safe! And- oooh, maybe when we go shopping, we'd get a discount because he's such a nice surprise and people would want to pet him and- you don't care about anything I just said" she frowns. Rory pulls out of her daze and looks at her mother. 

"Mom..." 

"Rory." Lorelai replies, looking at her daughter with wide eyes and a serious expression.

“I need to tell you something”, Rory says, her tone even, but a hint of desperation manages to show in her voice. 

“Okay” is all Lorelai can say, placing her hands on her lap, fingers intertwined. She stares expectantly, a part of her worried crazy over what this conversation may be about. _Did something actually happen with Dean_?

And so, Rory tells her about her summer plans, her mother listening with surprise, something hurting inside of her. _Did she do something wrong? Why is Rory leaving?_

“I need to do it. I just… I can’t listen to my own wishes being here… I feel so... _pressured_. But it’s not you, I promise. You have been nothing but amazing to me mom, always. You’ve given me everything I need. I just… Something’s missing, and I don’t know how long it has been. I want to find it, I want to know what it is that I need, what I want to do. I don’t want my entire life to be Yale anymore, I want to be able to look back at my life when I’m sixty and think I actually did what I wanted, that I was really happy. Don’t get me wrong, I really am happy I just… I want space. Figure things out. I’ve been feeling so restless, and so suffocated by everyone; everyone’s expecting something and I— I can’t. I want to make a choice on my own. I want this to be a risk I take because I chose to, not because someone else pulled me into it. Does that make any sense to you?” she finished, her voice full of hope. She wants her mother to understand, to comprehend what she’s going through, this sort of existential crisis. 

“I really want to understand Rory, I do. But I can’t. I just…” she rips her gaze off her daughter. “I just think that you’re old enough to make your own decisions and… If you feel like you need to do this, I won’t argue with you. But I do need to know something. Is this my fault too?” she asks, voice filled with sadness. 

“No, mom… No. You’re everything I am. I love you so much, and I’m going to miss you. I’m not… I’m not leaving because of you. I’m leaving because— I don’t think I’ve made the wisest choices lately, you know? And last night— last night with Dean, what could have happened; it was so out of character for me, for Rory Gilmore. It made something click in me and… I want to solve it. But I don’t think anyone else can help me solve it— not even you. I’ve done something and I need to fix it. I just…” she looks away, “I don’t want someone else to solve it for me, I want to stop being this worshipped being who’s only done right, I want to meet people who won’t judge me for my academic life because they won’t have to know about it, who have no clue where I come from, who my grandparents are… All of that.” She lets out a heavy sigh.

With all of this, Lorelai understands. She once wanted it to, to be somewhere people had no idea who she was or what she had done. That’s why she’d moved away to Stars Hollow when Rory was first born. She needed to get away from her parents’ world, to build a new life for herself, one she would like and which would make her proud. Looking back, she knows she made the right decision. She nods, and Rory’s expression changes into a surprised one. 

“Alright." It's all she says. 

“Really?”.

Her mother nods again and then finds a small smile to give her, a genuine one. Rory throws herself to her mother and they hug. She knows that although Lorelai is feeling a bit sad that she’s leaving, she now understands what she has to do. There’s no other way.

“Do you know where you’re going?” Lorelai then asks, letting herself out of the embrace, which she feels lasted forever. Rory gives her a small smile and walks into her room, bringing back a huge map of the USA with what is clearly a route marked with a red pen, some places highlighted with golden stars. There are post-its placed around the margins with information. Of course Rory would have this all planned out. She, however, feels a bit pained she wasn’t part of all this planning. But then again, this had to be all Rory, no one else. 

Lorelai moves her fingers across the map gently, taking it all in. The marked locations, each marked route, the notes; everything, and lets out a sigh. 

“Good. When are you leaving?” she asks, knowing the answer anyway. She needs to hear it in order to make it real, though. 

Rory scratches the back of her neck with a bit of a guilty expression on her face. “I was thinking tomorrow morning… I counted how much time I have and I wrote down where I should be and when… I want to follow that schedule, but if you want I can change it a bit, maybe cross some of these places, they’re not that important anyway—“ she rambles, taking the map and making some marks with the marker she’s holding. Lorelai smiles. 

“I think tomorrow’s perfect. It’s your choice, hun”.

Rory looks up and smiles back. “Okay. Tomorrow it is then.” she says, her voice barely a whisper. They both look at each other, their expressions turning earnest, then look back at the map, not really needing to do so, but doing it instead because they need something else to do, some sort of distraction. 

Rory’s going on a road trip for the summer. Rory’s leaving for the summer. Rory’s leaving. Rory. 


	2. first days, first nights

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rory's road trip begins; she pays a visit to a familiar face, but things tend to get... awkward.

_I want so much that is not here and do not know where to go._

[Bukowski]

"So... you're really doing this", Lorelai says with crossed arms, standing by Rory's doorframe. It's been a couple hours since they first discussed it. They've already gone through Rory's route, budgets and the places she can't miss (for example, Donna Reed's crypt in Westwood Village Memorial Park, which also happens to be where Marylin Monroe crypt's is; or Graceland, from where Rory's promised to send a postcard). Everything has been planned out, and now they're preparing Rory's suitcase and bags, everything she might need. 

"Apparently I really am" Rory looks up from her suitcase, which is filled mostly with books. She lets out a sigh and closes it, struggling a bit to pull the zipper, but finally managing to do so while seated on top of it. 

"My baby girl is traveling throughout this gigantic country on her own" Lorelai says dramatically. "It seems as if just yesterday you were three and reciting every state and its capital, getting mad at me because apparently I happen to confuse Virginia and West Virginia..." she says with a hand movement, dismissing it. 

"Well, one is to the West, figures that could've helped distinguish them."

"Ah yeah, but where's the West?" Lorelai replies sitting down on Rory’s bed. 

"You’re impossible", Rory shakes her head while taking clothes out of her closet to pack into a duffel bag, emptying the whole thing. 

"I've been told so, one of my many desirable qualities" she smiles widely. 

"Well, get over yourself now and help me pack all of these, tomorrow’s a big day." Rory says, gesturing towards her bags. 

Lorelai lets out a sigh and gets up, helping Rory pack fold her clothes so they'll fit in the bag. Tomorrow really is going to be a big day. 

The next day, Rory's up before dawn, placing her stuff in the trunk of her car, nervousness creeping over. She could still turn back, get inside and into her bed, comfortably tucked in. She could turn back and stay here for the summer, with her mother, watching movies and eating junk food all along. She could but... she won’t. Once she gets into the car and on the road, there's no turning back, and she's aching to do so, that way she can stop having second thoughts, since she'll be then forced to go on, driven by the feeling that she can’t leave anything unfinished. 

"That's the last bag." Rory says, walking up the stairs that lead to the front porch. 

"I know." Lorelai says quietly, a sad hint to her tone. "It's almost time. You don't wanna be late to your very own self-scheduled appointment, you’ve got 45 states to visit” she says with wide eyes. “Man, why again are you visiting 45 states?”. 

“I don’t know, it made sense at the time.To visit forty five out of the forty eight states in continental America. Sounds like a good plan. I could maybe make some time to visit the other three I’m missing… That’s North Dakota, West Virginia and Vermont”, Rory replies shrugging. “Besides, if I’m already making it all the way to the West Coast, it only made sense to me to come back through the South, that way I miss nothing… I don’t think I’m repeating this any other time, anyway.” She sighs.

“Yeah, I hope not. And how long exactly will you be gone?”

“Around two and a half months. To make this trip in one go takes about ten days, but in reality—“ 

“Take the ten day course!” Lorelai screams enthusiastically, interrupting Rory, the latter rolling her eyes. 

“No, can’t do” she shakes her head. “I’m not planning to drive for 224 hours straight, sorry”. 

Lorelai pouts. “Well, you should. Mommy’s going to miss you so much. We’ve never been apart for that long!”. Rory’s about to say something when Lorelai speaks again. “Oh, that’s right! You left me two years ago too! To go to Washington! With Paris! This is the second time you leave your mother all alone! Not fair!” she speaks a mile per minute. 

“Stop it, I’ll be back. You know that. I’ll be careful, and everything will be okay. I love you mom” she says with a sweet smile. 

“Oh kiddo, you have no idea.” Lorelai pulls her into a tight hug. “You’re right. You’ll be back and everything will be fine.”

A good twenty minutes later, Rory gets into her car, waving goodbye with full emotion to a sad Lorelai, who’s standing on the front porch of the house, wrapped in a bright pink robe, wearing bunny slippers and Wonder Woman pijama pants. She’s going to miss her mom so, so much. 

And so, Rory's on the road. The route she's made features the most important cities across forty-five states. She knows it is a bit of an unrealistic plan, to have an schedule all planned out -specially when her intention was to do something risky-, but she also knows things may change along the road. For instance, she could discover an amazing place along the road and decide to stay there, or maybe she'll feel outdoorsy and choose to go to a National Park instead of visiting the city. There's also the possibility of meeting someone along the road and changing her plans a bit in order to share the road with someone else for a little while (and god, she could really use some time off driving, maybe split the distance with someone else, particularly since she's going to be driving for such a long, long time). 

The first stop is Providence, Rhode Island. It takes her an hour and a half to get there, and it is barely seven thirty in the morning. When she left Stars Hollow, she was pretty sure she knew what to do, her map and notes making total sense to her. But now that she's driving through Providence, she realizes she has no actual idea of what is going on. Where is she supposed to park? What is she doing first? Why did she even come here, in first place. 

Driving through a new city makes her feel scared. She definitely should've taken that into consideration when she planned this. Where should she have breakfast? Is she actually staying here for the day? Taking a deep breath, she pulls over. She's got to keep it together. She has been away for less than two hours and is already breaking down. _Keep it together._ She breaths in and out, then decides to take out her map and notebook. 

"Okay so... Providence..." she sighs. Opening her notebook, she eyes the first entry, the one about Providence (she's written about each city she's supposed to visit in the order she plans to visit them, making notes about important landmarks and the places she's interested in). _The RISD Museum, Benefit Street, Waterplace Park..._ She lets out a heavy breath. There's not much she wants to do here today but have a peaceful breakfast, walk around for a while, and maybe sit down to read in a park. 

She puts the notebook back into the glove box and looks at her map. It is huge, and she can't find any of the small streets she's visiting right now. "I should've thought about this first." She mutters. Looking around, she figures it's best to go downtown first to have breakfast and then get a new map or some indications from a pedestrian. 

Rory starts the car and then follows the signs downtown. She finds a small coffee shop — _Small Point Café—_ and parks close, then gets in. It is quite modern, with bright lights and colors, and wide tables. She sits down and orders. Everything is okay. She gets a new map and new hopes for the day, as well as coffee. 

A couple hours pass since her arrival to Providence and Rory already feels so much better. She feels freer, lighter and glad she's made the choice to go on this road trip (even when it is only her first stop and a lot could change on the road). She walked along Benefit Street, stopped at Brown for a while to check the campus out and now is making her way to Waterplace Park, in order to sit down for a little while to read before lunch. It is a lovely day, a light breeze passing through, the sun shining high. 

She gets to Waterplace and sits down. The water's calmed before her eyes, shining with the rays of Sun that manage to get through the city around. It is peaceful. It is still early in the day, and the place is almost empty. _This is what I wanted_ , Rory thinks, _peace_. She opens her book in the page she left of  —she's making her way through García Márquez' _One Hundred Years Of Solitude_ —, and reads, the faint sounds of a quiet city on a Sunday surrounding her. 

She plans to leave at noon and drive to Plymouth, where she'll have lunch and roam around for a while before heading to Boston. It shouldn't take her long to make the trip —about fifty minutes to Plymouth and then another hour to get to Boston—, and when the time comes and she has to head back to her car, she feels amazingly happy. She can't wait to get behind the steering wheel and start driving. It is an odd feeling, to know she's heading wherever she wants to, to have total control of the things she's doing... It is _freedom_ , one she never really experienced before, and it feels good.

The first time she sees him, is in Plymouth. She's walking through the Plimoth Plantation after having eaten lunch, a bit bored, trying to take in all of the history of the place, but finding it impossible nonetheless. She's heard the story of the place a million times, every year on the days prior to Thanksgiving during elementary school, through middle school and even during high school. Suddenly, he catches her eye, and all boredom that filled her seems to fly away. He's sitting on a small wooden bench, holding a paperback with one hand, his eyes scanning through the page quickly, with apparent concentration. 

Rory can't stop looking, and makes the excuse for herself that she's only staring because she wants to figure out what book he's reading (it's not true). His dark hair sticks to the sides, even when it seems he's taken some time fixing it. He's wearing a navy blue bomber jacket, with some sort of band t-shirt underneath. His fingers grasp the book strongly, yet, so delicately. _He_ is so delicate. All out of sudden, he looks up, and his expression takes Rory's breath away, without knowing how or why, brown eyes looking into big, blue eyes. 

He notices Rory and gives her a smirk, shaking his head, then turning back to his book. She's entirely sure she's blushing, but can't stop staring. _Why?_

"May I help you?" he looks up, raising his eyebrows, pulling her out of her daze, into reality. Rory quickly shakes her head, embarrassed, looking away. "Okay." Is all he replies before diving back into his book. 

Rory takes a deep breath and rips her gaze off the mysterious guy, then continues her walk. She’s a few steps ahead when she chooses to take a look back, take him in for a little longer, but he’s already gone. Looking around, she sighs and takes out her cellphone, staring at it intently. She’s been thinking about it the whole day, wondering if it’s a good idea. Somehow, this weird encounter with mysterious Reading-Guy has given her a push. Maybe she needs a bigger distraction, something to take her mind off him, to stop wondering, and so, taking a deep breath, she dials and waits for a few seconds. There’s a total of three beeps before someone answers. 

“Hello?” he says. 

“Hey, it’s Rory”.

The sun is setting when she makes it to Boston. She's not sure how or why she spent so much time at Plymouth, but the truth is, after her weird encounter with Reading-Guy, she walked around without destination, wondering why she had felt so much interest towards a total stranger. Maybe it was the fact that he was reading in an outdoors museum, completely unaware of his surroundings, not caring even a little bit about them. Maybe it's the fact she did not manage to figure out what he was reading and that's been itching her for a while. Or maybe it was just _him;_ his calmed position, even breaths, brown eyes —the golden specs in these—, strong fingers. Maybe, it was all of it. 

Either way, she tries to shake the feeling off as she presses the buttons on the elevator and waits for it to start moving. It's been long since she was last here, but the familiarity of the building is fairly weird. She feels kind of bummed that she's just starting her trip, finally gaining some freedom, and has to stay here, but it is saving her a lot of money she'll be using for food instead, so that's a win. 

She walks out of the elevator and towards his apartment. It has been long since she last saw him, really long. She exhales and knocks on the door. There's some noise inside, a baby crying, a couple arguing briefly and finally, her father opening the door. 

"Hey, kiddo!" he smiles his usual, bright smile. Rory wishes she had a better relationship with him, gosh, for years it was all she wanted, but she's been so hurt over him being in Gigi's life but not in hers, she's drifted apart. 

"Hi dad" she smiles. Chris hugs her and it feels all too familiar, yet so awkward. 

"Come in, come in. You got any other bags you need to bring up? Where did you park?" he says, moving aside to let her in. She does so and takes in the view, the same apartment, the one she visited over a year ago, now filled with baby toys, blankets and furniture. 

"Uhh-" she turns to face him, as he closes the door behind them. "I parked right across the street... I left some bags in there, my suitcase too, but I figured that way okay." She says, a worried expression breaking through. The last things she needs is for her things to be stolen on her first day, specially when things have been going so well. 

"Ah yeah, it's alright." Her father shrugs. "It's a nice neighborhood, nothing to worry about. Come, your sister's over here." He gestures with a smile, walking towards one of the bedrooms. 

_My sister._ The words make no sense in Rory’s head. She dreamed of having a sibling when she was a kid, but it was a wish as useless as having her parents get together again, to have a picture perfect family. As years passed, these dreams were long forgotten and instead, she chose to look ahead. Things were promising now her mother was in the process of getting together with Luke, the actual father figure in her life. 

But right now, it’s not about Luke and her mother. It’s about her sister, the one almost eighteen years younger than her, and whom in reality, is an unknown to her, someone else’s sister, just another baby from a Christmas card. She walks into the bedroom and sees her, a sweet, blond girl sitting on Sherry’s lap with a book. 

“Rory, it’s so nice to see you.” Sherry says warmly, a big smile on her face. _She’s always smiling_ , Rory thinks. The deal with Sherry always smiling is that, you never know when it is supposed to be real and when it is not. She is a nice lady, though, or at least she tries to be. 

“Hey. It’s nice to be here. Thank you for letting me stay here.” Rory replies awkwardly. 

“Well, of course. Besides, it’s been long since you last saw your sister. Come, come.” Sherry says enthusiastically, gesturing towards the bed she’s sitting on. “Would you like read to her? She’s gotten really big, gee, she’s over a year, can you believe it?”.

“Ah yeah, I got the invitation, but it was impossible to come over. I wish I could have, though.” Rory replies guiltily. 

“Don’t you worry about it, I remember when I was in college, I never had any time for anything, it was all assignment here, assignment there. I miss it a lot nowadays, the life I had back then!” Sherry says. Rory doesn’t know what to make of her words, a bit of sadness in them. 

She then sits with Gigi, asking her to show her the book she’s looking at, playing along with her for a bit. It’s nice, but it feels artificial. The lack of a relationship with her one year old sister is sickening. She wishes she could change that, but also knows how painful it still is, to have seen her dad walk out of her and her mother’s life during Sookie’s wedding (again), to see him raise this child. All of it, she finds it painful. 

The feeling takes over and she’s got to get out. “Hey, Sherry.” She says in a small voice. “I really—“ she clears her throat. “I really need to go to the bathroom. And then maybe have a snack, if possible.” 

“Of course! The bathroom’s down the hallway. Oh! And the door next to it is where you’ll be staying. Maybe you’d like to take a look at it, tell me if you need anything else, extra blankets, pillows, a duvet cover, towels, anything! I’ll tell Christopher to prepare something for you to eat, don’t worry. You make yourself comfortable, this is home.” Sherry smiles, taking Gigi in her arms and walking out the room.

_This is home_. The words have a weird taste, bitter, unknown. Rory shakes it off as she heads for the bathroom. _At home_. This isn’t home. This is her father’s, and his wife’s and his daughter’s home, but it isn’t hers. It can’t be hers. She doesn’t want it too. Her home is with her mother, in Stars Hollow. Her home is at her grandparents’, in Hartford. Heck, even her dorm with Paris is home. But this isn’t. 

She locks herself in the bathroom and stares into her own eyes at the mirror, fighting back the tears. It was a bad idea to come here, to stay with her father, to spend time with her _sister_. She shouldn't have called. Why is she here, in the first place? Ah, right; to take her mind off other things, to take her mind off _him_ , a total stranger. But there’s no way out now. She washes her face with cold water and unlocks the door, walking out and into the bedroom next door. 

It is a nice bedroom. The walls are painted a light steel blue color, with cream details. The duvet covers match the walls, and the wooden furniture is of a grayish-beige color. There’s a window next to the bed, with a view of the street. _That’s good, this way I can see if my car gets stolen_ , Rory thinks to herself. It is a very, very pretty room. But it is Sherry’s doing, and that feels weird.This whole evening is weird. 

She places her duffel bag on top of a light blue chair with patterned cushions and walk out, to the kitchen. 

“Hey” she says. 

“I hope you haven’t become vegetarian in the past months, kiddo, because I’ve made you this huge smoked roast beef sandwich. Heck. I know you and your mom’s diet, you’ll be alright with this”. Christopher says, placing a plate on the counter. Rory sits down and stares at it. It looks amazing. 

“Yeah, no. No vegetarian. No vegetables at all, actually.” Rory says, taking a bit, making Chris chuckle. 

“Good. So… How’s your mom?” Ah, the inevitable question. 

“She’s good.” Rory replies taking another bite. “She— the inn. Good stuff. Busy” she says between bites. 

“Yeah, she told me about the Inn. Well, it’s been a while. But I’m really proud of her. Your mom… She’s a strong woman.” he says, a bit of sadness in his tone. Things get awkward. It's been like this with him for a while now. After what seems to be an eternity, Christopher clears his throat, drawing Rory's attention. 

"How was Plymouth?" he asks, not really interested. 

"Ah, it was... okay. I'm not really into that whole English colony thing. The place gives off a weird vibe." She replies. It's nothing but the truth. The history of Thanksgiving's Day is nice, about "two different worlds uniting", but in reality, Rory thinks they're just that; people, and it shouldn't have been a problem to co-exist. She likes to celebrate Thanksgiving's Day anyways, more out of tradition than anything else. 

"Yeah, I get that." Chris replies. And the silence is back. 

They don’t speak anymore, and once Rory’s finished, she just thanks him for the food and walks towards her room, claiming she had a really early day (which is true) and is really tired. 

“Hey, kiddo. What time are you leaving tomorrow? We’d like to say goodbye before you leave. Gigi included.” Chris smiles. _Damn it._

“Ah—“ Rory swallows. “I was thinking early, seven or seven thirty, maybe. You don’t have to bother to wake at that time, really.” Rory states, hoping it’ll work. It doesn’t. 

“You’re kidding? Of course we’ll catch you then, we have early hours here anyway. Besides, it’s the first time we have you over, what kind of hosts would we be if we didn’t say goodbye? Seven it is, then. Goodnight kid.” he says, planting a kiss on her forehead and walking into his bedroom, closing the door behind. 

“Yeah. Goodnight.” Rory frowns, her voice almost a whisper. 

She chooses to take a shower, get all the spooky feelings of staying with her father and his wife off her, but it does not really work. It’s their bathroom, and their water, and their towels, and their sink, and their W.C., and… She can’t wait to get on the road tomorrow. She’ll have breakfast in the city—by no means is she sitting on the table with her father’s family to pretend, to have a nice breakfast as a family—, and it’ll be over. She’s been to Boston before, with her mother. There’s no need to make any long stops. She’s already visited historic Boston before, and also made her way through the Fenway route, except for the Museum of Fine Arts, one she did not allow her mother to take her because Lorelai and art exhibitions do not go together. There was this one time they went to the MoMA and Lorelai went back to Stars Hollow with the idea she was an artist (it was disastrous; there’s still paint on the kitchen’s ceiling). 

She sits on the bed and takes out the small notebook she’s using as a planner, then writes “Museum of Fine Arts” in her Boston entry. She was smart enough to pick up a map of the city as soon as she entered it and is now tracing her route to the museum. It will take her about seven minutes to get from Back Bay, where her father lives, to the Museum if she chooses to go by car. She wishes to walk there, or to use public transportation, but that would mean leaving her car here, and then that means coming back to the apartment, so that’s a no. There will be other chances in other cities to do so in, she thinks, but right now, all that really matters is to run from this cursed place, the one that holds her second family, the one that’s not home. 

She gets in bed, closes her eyes and… brown eyes look into big, blue eyes again. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is a bit of a filler chapter, but I needed something to get Rory on the road! I really enjoyed writing Rory's visit to Christopher, it was interesting. I've already got the next chapter all planned out, and I'm really excited about it. I think y'all like it ;) have a nice week <3  
> 


	3. not so little women

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rory's rough day takes a turn for good after a peaceful and silent evening.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! This chapter's longer than I expected (I think it's around 5000 words¿?), but I really like how it turned out! I've started adding pictures of Rory's route, so if you haven't checked the last chapter's route, it's up now!

The next morning, Rory wakes up half an hour earlier than she had planned. It is only six. She gets up, gets dressed and prepares for the day, and once she's done, she glances at the clock. _6:25_ , it reads. She promised her father she was leaving at seven so the whole family could say goodbye... But if she leaves now, makes the excuse that something came up…

She makes the bed, leaves her used towel in the laundry bin, and picks up her bag from the chair. She takes a note pad that laid in the bedroom's desk and scribbles a quick note, promising to call later that same day and explain everything, as "something unexpected had came up that had to be taken care of immediately". She walks out of the bedroom, tiptoeing, goes to the kitchen counter and... Hears the main door open behind her. _Shoot._

"Rory? What are you doing?" her father asks. _This is going to be interesting._

She turns to see him, a small smile on her face, mostly out of guilt. "Oh. Hey dad..." she replies. Chris closes the door and walks towards her, holding a paper bag in one hand, which Rory looks at. 

"I brought danishes for your breakfast. That's why I'm up." He explains, holding the bag up and placing it on the counter behind Rory. "But you..." he trails off. "What are you doing?" he asks with a stern tone, crossing his arms. 

"Ah, well, you see..." Rory tries to think of something, anything. But there’s no explanation. She was simply leaving, hoping to evade her father in doing so. "I was leaving." She blurts out, shutting her eyes closed. 

"Leaving." Chris repeats. Rory nods. "Leaving without saying goodbye." he says, mostly disappointed. "I can't believe this, Rory. Why would you want to do that? Is it because of Sherry? She's been so nice to you!" he tells her. 

"No, yeah, Sherry's really nice to me. She is. It's just... Being here feels weird. With you, and her, and Gigi... It's too weird." she sighs. 

"Weird? We're your _family,_ Rory." Chris says in an accusatory tone. It makes Rory scoff. 

"No, dad. Family's mom in Stars Hollow. Family's Richard and Emily's home. Heck, family's even in Yale. Not here." Rory shakes her head. Chris takes a seat next to her on the counter, facing towards the kitchen, his glance steady on his hands. He is shaking his head, and when Rory looks at him, something inside her gives up fighting and goes soft. ”You know...", her voice is low, "I wished all my life to have a family. Mom, you and I, together. I wished for it on every birthday. I held high hopes each time you visited. But last time was too much. You've got a new family. It's over and I'm finished hoping and wishing, hell, you promised last time. You promised, and I know things got in the way, and I'm not blaming Gigi, she— she's great, but you messed up way too many times with mom and me before that. You messed up and it led us here, with me leaving without saying goodbye to you because I don't want to keep hurting." Rory says in a hurry, the truth finally coming out. Chris’s face is on his hands, leaning towards the counter and shaking his head. 

“Rory—“ is all that manages to come out before Rory interrupts.

"You know. I asked Santa for a family every year. Everyone at school had one, and I wanted one too, but he never got it for me and I was mad. So I wrote him a letter asking why he couldn't make my wish true and he actually replied. You know what he said?" Rory turns on her seat to face her dad. He pulls his head up to look at her with expectant eyes, visible hurt in them. "He told me I already had one, a really special one, because my mom was covering for my dad and doing an amazing job, and he said to me that although he could not get you to stay with me forever, that didn't stop you from loving me, and you were always there, somewhere, for me. He told me I was lucky to have mom, and to have you too. He explained all families were different, and that mine was in Stars Hollow, _with_ Stars Hollow. And he was right. I love you, dad, but... but it's true. Home's somewhere else." She finishes, giving him a watery smile. 

Chris takes a deep breath and nods. "Yeah. I get that. I wish I could change things but…” he trails off. "Maybe it was better like this." Rory finishes softly, placing a hand on top of his arm. He nods sadly and places a hand on top of hers, giving it a small squeeze. But his calmed mood is suddenly interrupted.

"You should leave." He stands up, handing her the danish bag. He’s not mad, just… dry. Rory stares at him, a bit stunned, but nods still. 

After everything she just told him... he seems hurt, he really seems to get it all, but even then… Rory feels angry. Whenever things get hard between them, he just seems to let it go, never really trying to fix it. He is understanding of all she just said, but is not trying anymore. He seems done too, and it makes her mad. He's done of trying, and it's disappointing. She knows she just told him she’s given up hoping for a family; actually, she just told him she’s given up on him, yet having him give up on her too is a different kind of pain, one she wasn’t expecting him to cause her. 

Rory takes the bag from his hands and picks up her backpack, looks him in the eye with a small nod in acknowledgement, and leaves the place. It’s going to be a long time before she’s back here. 

She walks out of the building, pushing through the revolving door and onto the street. There’s a cold, humid breeze, characteristic of Boston, even during springtime. She gets a small shiver and pulls on her jacket’s sleeves as she crosses the street towards her car. She gets in and places her bag on the passenger seat, then proceeds to hold onto the steering wheel and leaning over. And then she starts crying. It is stupid. This whole visit to Boston, it is just straight up stupid. She’s been here before, could’ve skipped it. But she didn’t. Why? 

Maybe she wanted to believe again, maybe she was really looking forward trying once again. But now that she’s done it, she’s got to move on. She takes a really (really, really) deep breath and pulls her cellphone out, hitting the speed dial button. She glances over her dashboard. It is almost seven, a couple hours too early for a Gilmore. 

“Hello?” someone groans on the other side, clearly having been woken up by the phone.

“Hey mom” Rory replies. 

“Mom?” Lorelai questions confused, her voice heavy with sleep. 

“No, Rory.” she clarifies. 

“Sorry, she’s not home.” 

“No, mom, it’s me, Rory.” she says, clearly exasperated. 

“Rory? Oh! Rory!” she hears her mom sit up on the other side. “How’s my little Gulliver?”

“It’s too early for you to make any good references.” Rory says seriously. “But hey, I’m in Boston.”

“Ah, you were feeling in the mood? For a plate of that famous food? Because you know, they have no beans in Boston.” Lorelai says knowingly, citing a Peggy Lee song.

“Yeah, there’s plenty of fish, and Chinese food if that’s your dish.” Rory follows. “I bet it was a big shock, as big as a whole city block.” Lorelai says finally. Even a hundred miles apart, their reference-filled dynamic continues to shine through. It makes Rory smile, and just then she realizes how much she needed that, but it also reminds her of why she called on the first place. 

“Hey, you know who lives in Boston?” she says nonchalantly, trying not to make a big deal out of it. 

“Marky Mark? Noam Chomsky? Oh! I know! Karen Allen!” she lists excitedly. “I always knew my undying love for Indiana Jones would bring us here, all those letters to Harrison Ford I sent, they must have reached her too and now she’s willing to adopt y—“ 

Rory then interrupts her. “Dad. Dad lives in Boston”.

“Oh. Yes, he does.” Lorelai says, and even when she can’t see it, Rory knows she’s frowning. “Did you see him?” she asks. Rory bites her lip and considers it for a moment. She doesn’t need to say it, anyways, because her mom catches up with her silence. “You stayed with him.” Lorelai states dryly.

“It was a stupid choice. I regret it so, so much” she explains quickly. “Are you mad?”

“I’m not mad. It’s just… so weird. You, staying with your dad, and—and there’s Sherry. God, how was Sherry?” she now has a curious tone on her voice. Rory doesn’t really know what to tell her. She could tell her the whole truth, how she ended up here after wandering too long around Plymouth while thinking of a stranger, how Sherry was amazingly nice to her, how she spent time with her sister but.. She doesn’t. She just _knows_ it hurts her mother as much as it hurts her. So she says it was okay, that they didn’t talk that much because she arrived really late at night and left overly early this morning. Her mother knows something’s up, but doesn’t question her anymore. “You could’ve told me you were going to see him.”, is all Lorelai says. 

“I would’ve, really, but it just… it came up. I didn’t even know it myself, but it was alright. It saved me money, which I can now use to get breakfast and— I should go get breakfast.” She says, glancing towards her dashboard again. It’s quarter past seven now, and she’s starving. 

“Okay. But next time you…” she hesitates in finding the right word, “Next time you come across a familiar face, you tell me.”

“I don’t think I know anyone else in any other city, mom.” Rory says matter of factly.

“Well, next time something important happens, you tell me about it right away.” Lorelai says. “Now, go have breakfast. I love you.” her voice softens. 

“I love you too, mom.” she replies, and with it, their call ends. Rory looks around, the beautiful street her father lives in shining underneath the May sun. She wishes she could call it home, lingers for a little bit, and then starts her car. 

It is past noon when Rory leaves Boston. She ate breakfast downtown and then headed to the Museum of Fine Arts, which happened to be a wakening experience. She had never realized how much she actually enjoyed arts —she never attended that many exhibitions for reasons already stated which involve her mother, their kitchen and _lots_ of bright orange paint—, but this one time she actually got the experience the whole thing with such delicacy, such tranquility, that she’s pretty sure she’ll be attending lots of those Yale exhibitions the art majors put up. Maybe it was because she did not have to hear to any sarcastic comments along the museum, or because there was no one to joke around with, but she actually managed to pull some appreciation for everything she saw, specially the moment she got to Gaugin’s _Where Do We Come From? What Are We? Where Are We Going?_ , a painting she had never really taken in, but now, it made too much sense. Everything the painting stood for, she could now feel. The intensity of the colors, the circle of life, the aspirations of the artist, _death_ itself _;_ all of it had a new meaning to her now that she was going through an existential crisis of her own, and for the first time in her lifetime, she took seat in one of those wooden benches placed in art galleries for people to look at the pieces. Now, she had found a new interest in all of these paintings, and she chose to take it all in carefully. She made a promise to herself to come back to the museum some other time, maybe when things got better with her father, or maybe during a nice weekend away with her mother, maybe sometime she met _the_ right person to bring along. She finished her walk through the museum with a huge smile plastered on her face, headed for lunch, and left. 

She is driving to Louisa May Alcott’s _Orchard_ _House_ , a crucial destination for anyone as passionate as books as she is, when her phone rings. At first she is startled by it, then quickly picks it up and answers without bothering to check the caller ID.

“Hello?” she says. 

“Hey, Rory… I just…”. It’s her dad. Rory huffs when she hears his voice. Why is he calling now, after everything that went down this morning? 

“I’m kind of in the middle of driving here, might return your call later when I got time.” she says dryly. She knows she’s being tough on him, but there’s no other way. She really does not want to talk to him, not now that things are going really well and that she’s calmed herself down. She wants to keep enjoying her day, to feel free and happy. Because she is, happy that is. 

“Look, I just wanted to apologize. I did not mean to make you leave like that, and I don’t know what you though of it but… But I’m still here, Ror, I don’t want you to feel like I’ve given up or—“. It’s too much to take and Rory interrupts him. 

“Funny you realized I would feel like you gave up on me, huh? I really can’t speak now, but maybe I’ll call you later on. Maybe think of some other way to ask for forgiveness. Oh, hey, why don’t you go running to mom like you always do and have her talk me down my anger? Huh? Would that work for you? Maybe even give her some hopes of getting back together, you can kiss and even slee—“

“Rory, enough!” her father says sternly. She knows she’s poked on a delicate subject and can’t take it back now. “I see you don’t want to talk, fine. But do not disrespect me —or your mother, for that matter— like that. I’ll see you around. Take care.” And with that he ends the call. Rory sighs into the phone and puts it over the dashboard. Of course he gave up on her. It’s all he ever does, and she’s done of seeing it happen, mainly because she feels not good enough for him, when in reality, the truth is he’s not good enough for her or her mother. 

She sees a sign for _Orchard House_ and turns right, then parks in a tiny ( _really_ tiny) parking space, where there’s only another car parked. The house is right in front of where she’s placed, but she has no intentions to get off the car. She feels dizzy, product of the wave of anger her talk with her father made her feel. She shuts her eyes closed and tries to breath in slowly, but ends up failing.

“Ah, dang.” she says to herself and takes her olive green messenger bag from the passenger seat, placing her cellphone on the inside and zipping it up. She gets off the car and smashes the door, half accidentally and half driven by her feelings. How is she supposed to go into the house like this? If she does so, she’ll forever remember it like the place she visited too mad to even care what it looked like. Rory takes a look around and sees a wooden bench placed to the left of the house. She walks past the fence into trail that leads to the house, surrounded by overly green grass —which she assumes is taken care of pretty frequently—, and takes a turn left to go the the side, plopping down on the bench when she reaches it and letting out a heavy breath, filled with emotion. 

She spends what seems to be an eternity sitting there, staring at the trees in front of her, how the leaves dance with the wind, their color a bright yellowish-green. It is a beautiful day, she’s known it all along. Hell, she was feeling it just a couple hours ago, walking through the museum and sitting in front of some masterpiece paintings, but now, she’s feeling frustrated and disappointed and does not know what to do about it. She could, of course, brush it off and get into the house, take a look around, wonder about Alcott’s life here, but doesn’t feel like it. She’s dizzy, and hungry, and needs coffee once again. So, she just sits. And her time there soon turns into their second encounter. 

“Geez, try not to kill those trees with that withering stare of yours.” A male says, voice filled with sarcasm. Rory does not even move, just keeps staring straight ahead and lets out a sigh. She feels the guy sit down next to her, but still, does not move and instead, closes her eyes. 

“It’s rude to stare.” she says. This forces a chuckle out of him, and Rory feel startled by the sound. It’s actually a nice sound, one of those genuine laughs, with a hint of something else beneath it.

“Wouldn’t you know about it? Yesterday staring like your life depended on it. Pretty flattering, by the way.” His words intrigue Rory, and so, she shuts her eyes open and looks at him. _Him. “_ Felt rather important, let me tell you. That creepy, deep stare you were giving me. I wonder what triggered such looks towards me.” He is keeping his tone sarcastic, and it is getting old rather quickly. But it’s _him. Why is he here?_ Rory wants to ask him a million questions, but her mood gets the best of her and before she even realizes, she’s speaking. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Rory says firmly, taking her eyes off him and staring back to the trees. She is blushing, and he keeps staring at her with a small smirk. He kinda likes it, the attitude she’s giving him, he’s _sure_ this is the girl he saw yesterday, the one he stared at for a while before _she_ did the same. 

“Sure you don’t.” He says, crossing his arms and resting his back on the bench. “But I’m pretty sure it was you who wouldn’t stop staring at me yesterday. Are you following me?” he asks, his smirk impeccable. 

“You are the one who came to sit over here, _you_ are following me.” Rory says, turning her face to him. She looks at him for a couple seconds before she has to turn away blushing once again, clearly affected by him. Why is he having this effect on her? She does not know him, she does _not_ want to know him. He seems sarcastic, and selfish, and really, really annoying. Or that’s what she wants to believe, anyway. 

“Ah, so you admit it was you.” He says simply, nodding. He is now looking at her, watching the way her short hair rests on her shoulders, and the way her cheeks turn red every time he speaks. He likes the way she looks, with a simple grey t-shirt and a pair of jeans, and the way her eyes are a deep blue, almost hypnotizing. _She_ is pretty hypnotizing, he thinks. Rory turns back to face him shaking her head, and he forgets how to breath for a second. He notices howshe furrows her eyebrows when she’s _in a mood_ , and how her nose slightly perks, her lips pressed into a thin line. He wants to keep poking her, having her give him her attitude, because gosh, she certainly is cute like that. “I have never been to Plymouth.” Rory says matter-off-factly, pulling him out his daze. Her words make him chuckle once again and she’s back to thinking what a nice sound it is, a hint of confusion showing on her face as she stares as his expression, how his jaw relaxes before tightening again.

“I never mentioned Plymouth.” He says and lets out a laugh again. _Uh oh_ , she’s been caught. She blushes crimson and looks down at her hands, shaking her head and letting out a small uncomfortable laugh. “Why were you staring?” he asks curiously. 

“I just—“ she bites her lip, “I wanted to know what you were reading.” She says, looking up, her eyes shining brightly underneath the Sun. He bites his lip too and nods, then pulls out a book from his back pocket and hands it to her. _Neuromancer_. “I’ve never read this.” She says. “I’ve been wanting to but haven’t got the time.” She says, gently stroking the cover with her fingers, then opening to the first page. _J.M._ is written on it, presumably his initials. She wants to ask his name but then gets distracted too soon when she turns the page. It is filled with notes; but not just any note. It’s his thoughts, it’s quotes from other books, it’s _him._ She stares at the book stunned and flips the pages, hoping to absorb it all. She wants to know what he’s written, who he is. She wants to know it all. Too much for telling herself how she _did not_ want to know him. 

“You should. It’s good. It’s a re-read… “ he says in a bright tone. “Take it.” He adds, shrugging. The words stun him as much as they seem to stun her, but he’s willing to give his book away to her, without knowing why. It seems _right;it feels right._ “I can’t take your book.” She shakes her head, looking back up at him. 

“Of course you can. I’m done with it, anyway.” He says. Rory stares at him as a smile takes over her face. _She is overly cute, how her small nose wrinkles, her eyes shining. “_ Besides, it’s good if it makes you smile, takes that frown off your face.” He says, giving her a small smile of his own. Clearly, those weren’t the right words, as Rory’s expression quickly turns serious again and looks down at the book. “You okay?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.” She replies simply, fidgeting with the book she’s holding. “Okay.”, he says, and his answers seems to shake something inside Rory. _Okay?_

_“_ You’re not gonna question me?” she asks, raising an eyebrow. 

“Well, no.” He says, staring at the trees ahead. “You said you don’t want to talk about it, why would I ask, then?”, he turns to face her. She looks amazed, then smiles at him and goes back to looking at the book he’s given her, playing with the raw edges. It looks overly used, probably a second-hand, with yellowish pages and folded corners. She’s never owned a book that’s been through so much like this one, _so_ used, _so loved_. 

It is also the first time she receives a reply like his, one so simple, yet so amusing. He is not asking her anything because she _does not_ want to talk about it, and it is something new to her. Living in Stars Hollow has always meant answering to questions you do not care for, talking about things you are annoyed about and making a big deal about everything. But for once, she gets to keep what is going on, gets to make it her own, and it amuses her. She knows it is important to let out you feelings, to talk them out so they don’t bottle up in your inside, but she also knows some things take time, and to get this time to heal on your own, to get this time to think about it by yourself and have no one else’s opinion, to have no one else prying on your life, is quite amazing. She finds it ridiculous how much she needed it. It’s only her second day and this trip has already brought so many lessons to her (possibly two or three, but it’s new, and exciting, and she’s so ready for more). 

“Have you checked the inside?” he suddenly asks. She shakes her head and he stands up, the rays of sun hitting his face. His eyes shine golden and Rory’s heart skips a beat. Then they head inside and spend a couple hours checking the house, the garden and the Wayside House of Authors, which is only two minutes away by feet. 

They walk around in comfortable silence, striking occasional conversation along the way, mainly about books. It is peaceful. They spend time together without having to talk about their own lives, and something about it feels utterly refreshing for both of them. It is a quiet escape from reality, a cozy place to be. He doesn’t learn much about her and she doesn’t learn about him either, but somehow, they already feel like they’ve known each other for ages, and their silence speaks for itself. Stealing frequent glances at each other does the trick, staring into each other’s eyes for a little while as they speak about their views on Alcott’s work, about the _Little Women_ (who he likes to call _Not So Little Women_ because of their big ambitions and dreams, because of their strong temperaments, because there’s no such thing as _Little Women,_ unless they are, literally, little. No. He likes to think of these women as people who knew what they wanted, as fighters. He speaks, and all his talk sweeps Rory off her feet, without realizing, without minding).

There is something about his company that is soothing. He is not big on words, speaks when he needs to, but he does it with such passion and concentration, he could be saying a couple words such as 'I need pie', and Rory would feel interested. He is also good at listening, nodding in agreement when she speaks and giving his honest opinion every once in a while. And he's also a big mystery, one that draws Rory in slowly, but at the same time, all at once. She wishes to know more, but also likes the tranquil pace set between them as they walk between tall trees of bright green leaves.

To him, Rory’s a big mystery, too. He can't figure out what she’s doing, if she’s just going on a small trip or if she’s running away from something. He does not know whether she’s alone or accompanied by someone else, but also doesn't care to ask. By no means does he want to make her feel like he's asking too personal stuff, prying into her life, but he really does want to know. He wants to know her. He likes the way she speaks every time she's nervous and how she flushes over absolutely anything, how she enjoys the peaceful company he provides, and overall, he likes to walk around with her, saying so little, yet feeling like they’ve spoken a whole lot through every quick glance they’ve exchanged. 

It is around 5:30 when they walk back to the Orchard House and stand next to Rory’s car. They picked up his backpack ( _huuuge backpacking backpack_ ) from the House and walked out to the street. 

“It is almost dinner time, I have to get going.” He says, and Rory simply nods. “Have fun with Neuromancer.” he actually _smiles_ , and it is the first time she’s seen him do so, so naturally, she rambles. 

“I will. And thank you, really. I— I had a good time, also, I mean, it is a nice place— well, it is kind of boring— that’s not what I meant. It is a cool place, I had always wanted to come here, but never got the chance. Well, of course I got it now but—“ she takes a deep breath and blushes. “What I meant to say is that it was nice meeting you.” she looks down at her shoes. 

“It was nice meeting you too. I had a nice time.” He kicks a pebble towards Rory’s shoe, getting her to look up and earning him a smile. “I’ve got to get going.” He repeats and points back. 

“Oh yeah, sure.”

He then gives her a small smile and walks away. _Walks._ Just walks away on the road, with his enormous backpack on. Rory sighs, then remembers something. 

“Hey!” she screams. He stops on his tracks and turns around, raising his eyebrows at her expectantly. Rory’s cheeks turn a light pink (as always) and gives him a small smile. “I’m Rory!” she says. 

“I’m Jess.” He replies loudly. “Goodbye, Rory.” He says, smirking, then turns around and just keeps walking. _Rory_. It takes him every drop of self control he's got on his inside to stop himself from turning around and walking back to her, from asking her where she's headed and following her there. He realizes how ridiculous it is, to feel an urge to follow a girl he's known for a day (two, if you also count yesterday) anywhere, and finds it even more ridiculous when he thinks it wouldn't be so bad to do so. He's learnt to let go from a young age, and there's no better moment than this to apply such quality. 

“Yeah, bye.” Rory whispers to herself, clutching the book he gave her closer to her chest. _Jess_. Will she see him again? He made her day better when it seemed to be going down, gave her the space she needed without actually leaving, and now, stronger in the afterglow of their friendly evening together, she feels like a not so little woman.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... there's that. I know Rory and Jess' encounter wasn't that descriptive, but that's how it was, pretty peaceful, boring thing going on lol. but things are just starting to get interesting, don't worry.  
> Let me know what you think so far! ☆


	4. third time's a charm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A boring day in Maine quickly turns into a fun night after Rory bumps into a friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter includes some dialogue from 'A-Tisket, A-Tasket', 'There's The Rub' and 'Teach Me Tonight' so... don't sue me ASP. hope you enjoy!

Rory arrived to Portland, Maine, the previous night after lingering for a while in her car thinking of Jess, repeating every single second they spent together over and over in her head. The two hour drive didn’t seem enough either to pull Rory out her thoughts of him, the unanswered question of whether she would ever see him again circling around her head. It was unfair; to meet someone _that_ special and have them go, see them go, _let_ them go. Rory shivered with the thought. Had she purposely let him go? He was clearly hitchhiking, she could’ve invited him along… It made her anxious, to think about it, to wonder for how long she’d have to regret her decision. Why did she care so much? 

Now, while having breakfast, Rory’s mind was finally set on something different (after having dreamt of him, his brown eyes, which she now knew reflected a golden light underneath the Sun), faced with making up a plan for the day. What was there to do in Portland? She likes coastal cities very much, the dark blue sea unfolding before her eyes but, what else is there to do that does _not_ include the sea? She hops of her seat and walks to the counter in the front, where she previously ordered her coffee. 

“Excuse me…” she says nervously. She hates talking to strangers, specially to ask for directions, it makes her look so touristy and uncultured. A tall, blond guy who looks around her age walks towards her from behind the counter. He raises his eyebrows, urging her to go on. “Uh… What is there to do around here?” she asks. He stares at her, clearly unimpressed. 

“Don’t know. Nothing” he shrugs. “It’s boring.” He adds simply. Rory scratches her arm anxiously and nods. “Okay”, she replies, a bit of anger showing on her voice, then turns to leave. “Thank you” _for nothing_ , she adds. Just when she is about to pull open the door, she hears him talk again. 

“You could visit the island.” he sighs, scratching the back of his neck. “There’s not much to do but… You can take a walk around. The Old Port’s nice, too.” Rory turns to him and smiles. “You can also walk around… It’s all walking around, really. Not much to do, anyway. But I bet you can come up with something.” He finally says, smiling a bit, then giving her a nod and turning to his duties once again. 

“Thank you”, Rory repeats, now brightly, and leaves the place. So it’s a lot of walking around, he said. She’s okay with that. She likes to walk. She’s afraid, though, that the lack of activities will give her too much time to daydream, too much time to think about _him_. With a sigh, she walks to the Old Port, which is barely a couple minutes away, and takes the sight before her in. 

Afternoon comes and Rory finds herself in her hotel room, flicking through the channels on the TV. Her day wasn’t boring, there just weren’t enough things to do. She can get out, start driving, head to her next destination, but something keeps her here: it is her wish to go to the lighthouse as it darkens outside and the day comes to an end. She did as the guy from the café told her: she visited the Old Port, which consists of a couple of old streets to walk around, then headed to Peaks Island (which was nothing exciting: she had to take the ferry to get there and got overwhelmingly dizzy, then felt lightheaded the whole time she was there), went back to “the mainland” (note: she’s now realized she likes that word), and got lunch at Commercial Street, where once again, there’s nothing much to do. She considered going to the Art Museum, but decided against it after coming to the conclusion that there was no way it could be interesting, because to her, this place is cursed, cursed with a never-ending boredom malison. So, she walked back to her hotel to take a nap and shower. 

She glances at her watch and realizes it is time to go in order to arrive on time to the lighthouse at sunset. It is a bit cold outside, so she decides to wear a tan suede jacket on top of her light blue button up. She stares at her reflection on the mirror when walking out of the room and smiles. Her short hair brushes her shoulders and she likes it like this. It makes her feel grown up. It was a haircut she got once she started college, a more _mature_ haircut, she thinks. Now, she just wishes to fulfill this mature image she set for herself and actually find everything she’s looking for. 

The drive to the lighthouse is short. She parks her grey Prius and gets out just in time: the sky has an orange hue to it, and the clouds are spread across it, looking like dark and delicate paint strokes. There are no other cars parked around —which is fairly weird, as the place is possibly the main landmark of Portland—, and it makes her smile. It hopefully means she’ll get the whole place for herself, how the sea stretches to the horizon and reflects the bright scenery, the soft evening breeze; it’s as if this moment was made specially for her. She wants to get a look of the lighthouse _during the sunset_ , so she walks fast, then starts running towards the left side of the tall building that stands before her eyes. 

There’s an unpaved path surrounded by wild flowers, the sea to her right, and she looks around for a bench; a place to sit. She stops on her tracks and spots it, a dark grey bench positioned perfectly between two trees, looking towards the lighthouse. And she spots _him_ sitting on it, with a book in hand, the other one stuck in his pocket. He’s stopped reading, and is now looking at the sea, an unguarded expression on his face (Rory notices this, his unclenched jaw, his parted lips, the golden glimmer of his eyes). 

“Jess.” She says breathlessly, can’t quite figure out if it’s because of the run towards this place or the shock of actually seeing him again. He smirks knowingly, staring at the sea, knowing for sure whose voice it is, then turns his head to her. 

“Rory.” He nods, his expression almost as surprised as hers, then pats the place next to him, signaling her to sit, fighting the huge grin that apparently manages to appear on his face every time he sees her.“I didn’t picture you as the kind of guy who’d come here.” She speaks, shaking her head, then sits next to him on the bench.“To Portland, that is.” She adds. 

“Why not?” His voice is soft, a bit of a laugh in it, his eyes set on her. 

“Well… It’s kind of… boring.” Rory shrugs. Jess chuckles, then presses his lips together and nods. He props his head on his hand, leaning on a knee and looks at Rory. “Maybe I’m a boring guy. You know, we did meet at Plymouth. Then Orchard House yesterday.” His words force a laugh out of Rory.

“That’s absolutely true. You’re kind of boring.” Rory says with a huge smile, then looks up at the sky, which is now a pastel pink shade. Jess looks at her for a second and sits back, stares at the waves dancing with the wind. 

“But you’re right.” He says quietly, leaning slightly to her side. Rory turns her head and looks expectantly. “About what?” she asks. 

“About me not being the kind of guy who comes here. There was a slight misunderstanding.” He gestures with a hand. “How so?”

“Last night, some guy with a truck picked me up, said he was heading to Portland. Somehow I did not think about _this_ Portland…” He says, Rory nodding knowingly.

“So you ended up in Portland, Maine.” She concludes. 

“Pretty much, yeah. I figured that if he was heading to the West Coast, I could get anywhere, maybe go to Ohio, I don’t know.” He shrugs. 

“But now you’re in Maine.” Rory states. Jess looks at her from the corner of his eye and sighs. “Yeah, now I’m stuck here. I could take a bus, leave but… I guess I wanted to see this, the sunset. I never liked the beach. There’s sand, and tiny animals, and the sun’s so bright when it reflects on the paper, you can’t even read. But I like the sea and how enormous it is.” He says calmly, keeping his gaze on the waves, making Rory smile.

“I wanted to see the sunset too. I would’ve left much earlier but… this stopped me” She gestures towards the sea. They then sit in comfortable silence, one pretty similar to the one they experienced the previous afternoon in Concord. The sun disappears in the horizon and the sky becomes a mix of red, pink and purple, and for a second, the whole world stops; even the birds seem to have stopped to appreciate the stunning panorama, which could have easily been taken from a movie. 

“ _Where ships of purple gently toss; on seas of daffodil, fantastic sailors mingle, and then— the wharf is still._ ” Jess whispers. 

Rory looks down at her lap for a second, blushing at Jess’ words, his perfect citation of the Emily Dickinson poem, and bites her lip. It’s the third time they’ve bumped into each other, without expecting it and without planning to do so. It’s the third time, and Rory thinks it may (or should) be the last one; maybe, this time, they can stop letting go. Maybe, after this time, Rory can make sure they’ll see each other again. After all, third time’s a charm. 

“What are you doing now?” She asks, trying to hide the hope that fills her. 

“I’m not sure. Getting dinner, I guess. Why?” he replies, a smirk on his face. 

“Just asking.” _Shit._ Third time’s a charm, third time’s her chance to have him stick around. 

“Okay.” He says simply, then looks at her from the corner of his eye, how she anxiously fidgets with the hem of her jacket and seems to be trying hard to talk again. “We could go get dinner.” he says nonchalantly, making Rory look up surprised. She nods, then lets out a sigh. 

“Though, everything around is kind of boring. I don’t think we’ll find a nice place.” She says disappointed. 

“Huh, guess we’ll have to fix that.” He smirks and stands up, sticking a hand out for Rory to take. She stares at him surprised, then grabs his hand, feeling a burning sensation throughout her fingers, the palm of her hand, her wrist, her arm. He pulls her up and as soon as she’s on her feet, she lets go of Jess’ hand, dropping her arm to her body quickly, then takes a step back from him, her expression somewhere between surprised and excited. Jess looks at her with raised eyebrows, wondering _what the hell just happened_ , then rolls his eyes and guides her back to the parking lot. 

“Where are we going?” Rory asks once she’s seated behind the steering wheel, Jess securing his seat belt. “Drive to wherever you’re staying… We’ll park there and then we can go grab something to eat.”

Rory nods and heads back to her hotel. “Now what?” she asks as they walk on the street, the night beginning to set. Jess’ long hair moves slightly with the wind, and she stares at the way one of his curls gently falls over his face. She feels the need to fix it, push it away from his eyes, but forgets about it once he speaks again. “Now we go get food. There’s a store around here.” he signals with his head. 

“We’re eating in a store?” Rory asks, furrowing her eyebrows. Jess shakes his head slightly, with a hint of a smile on his face. “No, we’re getting supplies, then we’re going to get some pizza.” He states. “I’m just showing you a bit of fun around here, you’ll see.”

She stares at him in confusion, but follows him anyway. Portland is so much lively now that the night’s started, with multiple restaurants and bars open across the street. Young people are laughing and talking all around, and the environment feels so much lighter than before. Or maybe Rory feels lighter, now that her shoulder gently brushes Jess’ every once in a while as they push among the crowd, every time he looks at her for a couple seconds before focusing again on the sidewalk. And Jess can feel it too, how Rory’s company makes him feel at ease, even when she’s still a stranger to him, a girl he just met a couple of days ago, a girl he’s talked to once. 

They reach the store and Jess asks Rory to wait outside. She stands next to the door, looking at the people walk by. She pays close attention to absolutely everything that goes around her: the way people walk, their laughs, smiles, hairstyles, the tone of their voices… it is something she’s learned to do recently, ever since she started at the Yale Daily News, and she finds it fascinating,how much you can actually find out about a person by just watching them. For example, she’s noticed a short girl of blond hair who’s sitting across the street wearing a pair of jeans and an oversize denim jacket. Rory can tell she’s an artist, her fingers and the hems of her sleeves covered in paint, a small sketchbook peeking out of her bag (which is not just any bag, it is some special sort of backpack with multiple zippers and compartments to keep pencils in). She notices the way she speaks, how she gestures calmly with her fingers, the way her eyes focus intently on the person she’s talking with, and she concludes she’s a good listener, relaxed and sweet. 

Her mind wanders for a bit as she takes a look inside the store through the glass door and thinks about Jess. What has she noticed about him? He likes to read and he apparently likes punk music, but what else? Both things are obvious, his back pocket forever carrying a paperback and his band t-shirts underneath his denim jacket. But what is he _like_? He is smart, Rory can tell from the way he speaks with such focus, but there’s not much more to conclude. He isn’t an open book as most of the people Rory has analyzed, he’s much more reserved. Maybe it’s his expression, clenched jaw and dark eyes that does not allow Rory to judge him further, always so unreadable and guarded. Or maybe it’s his evasiveness, the way he only speaks when he feels like doing so, or how he turns seemingly touchy subjects into book discussions. Or even maybe, it’s his signature smirk, never allowing Rory to really know what he thinks, appearing at times you wouldn’t expect to. She doesn’t realize she’s staring at him through the glass until he walks out and stares at her confused, with a half smile drawn on his face an a furrowed eyebrows. 

“What did I do?” He asks. Rory stares at him for a few more seconds before shaking her head. “Nothing. I was just…” she trails off, looking away. “I was just trying to figure you out.” She finishes, looking back at him with a serious expression. Jess’ half smile turns into a whole one, then into a laugh. Now, it’s Rory’s turn to stare confused. 

“You can’t figure out someone by just looking at them. There’s so much to a person.” He says after he notices the confused look on her face. 

“I know but… It’s a habit I’ve developed after writing for the Yale Daily News.” She replies easily as they start walking down the sidewalk, until it hits her. Up until now, neither of them had said anything about their education, the places they’re from… Up until now, their talks hadn’t really been personal. She knows he is from New York, born and raised, but that’s about it.As for her, he knows she’s close to her mother out of a couple of anecdotes she told him the previous day at Concord, every time something reminded her of her mother. 

“An Ivy League.” Jess presses his lips together and nods while he looks at her, then turns back to the street, trying not to bump into any of the people that are gathered outside a bar. Rory looks down at the pavement. Why does it feel like such a big deal? She’s anxious, feels like from now on he’ll judge her based off her education, just as everyone else in her life does; just as every new person she meets does. Will he think she’s snooty, a presumptuous chick from some expensive Ivy League college? Or will he now worship her, think of her as some sort of superior being for having been accepted into Yale? Either way, she doesn’t like it. She’s on this trip to get away from _that_ , not to have it happen all over again wherever she goes. Maybe then, she’s forced to live with it forever. 

She swallows and turns to Jess, who’s looking at her expectantly. “Yes.” She nods. “An Ivy League…” She finishes, looking away. 

“That’s cool.” Jess nods and keeps walking. _That’s cool?_ That’s it? Just like yesterday, when he did not question her about what was going on with her when she did not want to talk, Rory feels amused by his reply. Jess notices Rory’s no longer walking next to him and stop, turning to her, “What?” he asks. Rory shakes her head and walks towards him. 

“I don’t know, I just…” she keeps walking. “You’re not going to say anything else about Yale?” she asks and bites her lip. Jess raises an eyebrow at her and slows down his pace, guiding them to a pizzeria around the corner. “I don’t think so. It’s a great school?” he tries. “I mean… I’m not big on school, didn’t graduate high school —not that I’m particularly proud about that one— but, I wouldn’t judge you for that. For Yale, I mean. It’s cool you’re going.” He nods at her. Rory looks up at him then to the sky, the hint of a smile on her face. “Thanks.” She says quietly. 

“Just because I’m not into studying doesn’t mean I would judge anyone for doing so.” Jess continues as he pushes the door of the pizza place and lets Rory in. It is a small restaurant with brick walls and just a couple tables, mostly lit by candles and soft lamps. “But we don’t ever have to talk about college if you don’t want to.” He adds finally. _Ever talk about it, as in ever in forever?_

Rory gives him a small smile. “That’d be good. I really like it… I just… I wanted to get away…” she trails off. “From all of it.” He finishes for her. 

Being around Jess is spending time around someone who listens to what you want them to, no less and no more. He doesn’t try to pull information out of you that you would rather not have to talk about, and at the same time, doesn’t say much about himself either. Things Rory knows about him are things that have slipped in their conversation, small extracts of his life (such as he not completing high school— she will ask about that later on, sometime, because as of now, she strongly believes they’ll keep seeing each other, somehow), of _him_. She thinks of all of this while seated on one of the tiny booths of the restaurant, watching as Jess orders a pizza. He is still holding to the bag full of things he got at the store —supplies, he says—, won’t let Rory look at what’s inside. He walks to the booth and sits next to her, handing Rory a ticket. The booth’s so small their knees bump every time they move, and the whole of their sides is pressed one against the other. They sit in comfortable silence, Rory holding a menu that was on the table and reading it, with Jess peeking behind her shoulder. She can feel his breath lightly on her ear and neck, tries not to make a big deal of it. 

A brunette lady who looks like she’s on her mid forties walks towards their table, carrying a big pizza box and a pair of cokes. She places it on the table and smiles, leaves without saying a word. Excitedly, Rory reaches to open the box, but Jess lightly smacks her hand away just as fast. “Hey!” 

“We’re not eating here.” Jess says, then pushes himself up from the booth. “We’re not?” Rory frowns, sliding off the booth and standing up next to him. “No. That would be boring and you—“, he points a finger at her, “—were just complaining about that. Now, let’s go. Move, move.” He gestures at Rory with his head, and she reluctantly picks up their pizza and heads out wit him. The sky is dark now, only lit by the lights of the city. “I hope your shoes are comfortable, ‘cause we’re going to walk for a bit.” Jess says, leaning towards Rory. “How much?” she grunts. “Ten minutes?” Jess says. 

And so they do. They walk quickly, mainly because their pizza is getting cold, but also because Rory’s _too hungry and grumpy_ and needs to be fed immediately. They get to a park next to the sea. “What’s this?” Rory asks. 

“That, Rory, is the Bug Light,” he points towards the small lighthouse that stands next to the water, “and this, is the park.” He now points to the grass. 

“And now what?” she questions. 

“Now we sit.”

“On the grass.” Rory says skeptically. “Oh, I almost forgot.” Jess moves to open the plastic bag he’s been carrying since the store and takes out a blanket. He lays it flat on the ground and takes the pizza from Rory, placing it on the center. She stares at him dumfounded, then sits. 

“A night picnic.” She observes. Jess sits across from her and nods, taking a slice of pizza in his hands. “That’s your fun?” she inquires. 

Jess lets out a chuckle and hands her a coke. “What time is it?” he asks. Rory looks at him disappointed but checks her watch nonetheless. “10:02. What difference does it make?” she says, taking a bite of her pizza. _When did it get so late?_ They saw the sunset at eight thirty, walked the streets, looked for something to eat… 

“Well, the fact that this place is supposed to _close_ at ten makes it quite interesting.” he retorts, taking a bite of his pizza. Rory almost chokes on her soft drink when he says so. “What?” she asks anxiously. “We shouldn’t do this, let’s go.” She says, picking up her bag and struggling to get up. Jess grips her wrist and pulls her back down next to him, shaking his head. “Geez, Rory, you look pale. Breathe.” He chuckles. “It’s alright, we’re just going to eat and then we can leave, Okay? Besides, isn’t it nice? Having dinner next to the sea?” he remarks. Rory looks back at the sea and then at him, then lets out a sigh. “I guess it’s okay…” she utters. 

They continue to eat, staring at the sea before them in silence. It’s actually quite pretty (and cold), the way the city stands next to the water, shines brightly with the sea, which reflects the lights in its small waves. It’s quite nice, sitting with here with Jess, looking at the infinite horizon, how the ocean merges to the sky and goes on forever, and ever, and ever. And there’s also a new feeling inside of Rory, some sort of mix of nervousness and excitement. She knows it’s something related to the adrenaline of knowing they’re not supposed to be here, doing something unexpected. Maybe now, she can learn to break a few rules, to enjoy things more. 

She takes a deep breath and looks at Jess. “What are your plans, Jess?” she asks softly, trying hard not to disturb the loud silence around them, how the waves crash firmly against the shore. “What do you mean?” 

“I mean, where are you going next.” She turns her body towards him. He does the same and seems to think for an answer for a second. 

“I’m not sure. I guess I’m heading west, or trying to at least. It’s just been a couple days on the road now, and I’m _too close_ to home still. But I hope to keep going. Maybe get to _the other Portland_.” He sighs, glances at the sea for a second, then back at Rory. “What about you?”

Rory smiles and reaches for her backpack, pulling out a map. She unfolds it between them and nods her head towards it, prompting Jess to read it. He does so and looks back up to her in wonder. “All forty eight.” He says surprised. 

“Yup. Gonna do the whole thing.” She replies proudly, taking her map back and folding it into her backpack. 

“So, you’re going to drive around 13,000 miles across the country on your own, with no help whatsoever, staying at these awful hostels along the way and speaking to scary strangers.” He says with a hand gestures. Rory’s smile fades, and she looks down. 

“Why? You don’t think I can do it?” she says sadly. “No, I do… It just…” he trails off. 

“What?” Rory prompts him to speak, a clear hint of desperation in her voice. What does he know about her? 

“It just sounds a little too rough for you.” He assumes. Rory looks worried, fidgets with a napkin.“It’s not a little too rough for me… I hope it’s not, I don’t know what I’d do if I had to go back home, what I would say because I did not manage to—“

“Hey,” Jess whispers, reaching for her arm. “I didn’t mean to freak you. You’ll do it. I promise.I’ll help you practice. Tomorrow, I’ll act like a mean stranger giving you a hard time at a hostel, screaming at you over breakfast.” he declares, making Rory giggle. “You’d need to be over for breakfast for that.” she points. 

“Huh, it’s good I’m sticking around then.” He smiles brightly. Rory’s heart skips a beat as he looks at her like this, so open and real. 

“Come with me.” she says softly, her words surprising both her and Jess. He stares at her with wide eyes, and she realizes just how right it would be. She swallows and speaks again, “Come with me. I’m going to the West Coast… Of course there’s a bunch of stops in between, but… It’s going to be fun, I promise.” She says, trying to hide the desperation that lays on her voice. 

“I don’t know, Ror.” He sits up, scratches the back of his neck. “You said yourself you’re stuck here. At least come with me to the next stop. I’ll get us to New Hampshire and you can choose what you want to do then.” She announces. Jess seems to consider it for a second, apparent concentration showing on his face. 

“Okay… Yeah. I’ll come to New Hampshire with you.” He nods. It’s not what Rory expected, a little less actually, but she feels glad to know for sure that she’ll see him tomorrow, even if he may be leaving her after that. “Good.” Rory smiles, then takes a sip of her coke. They fall into a pleasant silence once again, both wondering what it would be like to travel with the other, then stare at each other for a second before a strong voice starts yelling. “Hey, you’re not allowed here at this time!” 

Jess stands quickly and helps Rory up, then picks everything into the blanket. “Run.” He says. “What?” Rory asks, a hint of laughter in her voice. 

“You heard me, run.” He takes her hand and they run out the park. The male voice is still yelling behind them, seemingly following them. They run as fast as possible, trying not to drop their things. They manage to get away once they reach the street and turn behind one of the buildings. All the yelling stops, and Jess leans on his knees, catching his breath. He looks up to Rory, who’s wide-eyed, seemingly shocked. 

“Hey…” He reaches for her, then looks surprised as Rory abruptly breaks into laughter. “What?” he asks, his turn now to look wide-eyed. 

“Nothing, it’s just… my mom would be so proud of that.” She says between laughs. Jess furrows her eyebrows at her, then lets out a chuckle. “It was fun. I never did anything like that.” She says, sliding down the wall to sit, Jess following.

Rory smiles brightly at him. “But if that ever happens again, I’m killing you. Death. And it’s going to be painful” she nods. He gives her a smirk and shakes his head. “You’re not going to kill me. Think how dull you’re life would be without me!” He responds. They smile at each other for a second before standing back up. 

“Come. Let’s get rid of our trash and then we can look for something else to do. It’s still early.” She pulls him with her. “As you wish…” 

What follows consists of the duo walking around the city, getting late night ice-cream and then hedging back to Rory’s hotel. Although it ended being a calmed evening, Rory can’t stop thinking about their escape from the park, how they ran away from all the yelling, the way the world moved at incredible speed as they did so. Certainly, it was the highlight of her night. The fact that she actually broke the rules for once and it wasn’t as bad as she always thought it’d be, was fun. It does not mean that now she’ll break the rules _all the time_ , but it did taught her to stop being to uptight about everything. Jess’ good for this, for helping her loosen a little. As they stand outside of her hotel, all she can do is hope for him to choose to stick around for longer, even after their trip to New Hampshire tomorrow morning. 

“I’ll be here tomorrow, 9:30 alright?” he asks, standing face to face with Rory on the doorway. 

“Yeah, that’s… That’s good.” She nods nervously. Having him so close after a date-like evening now seems to dawn on her. “Unless you want to sleep more, then we could do 10:30, but if that’s not the case and you feel like leaving really early, we can try 6:30, though it’s a really short drive, I don’t think we have to…” she rambles. Jess bites back a laugh and nods at her in amusement. “9:30 is good.” Rory concludes, taking a deep breath. She looks down at her shoes, blushing hard. 

“It’s a date then.” Jess nods, knowing his choice of words will drive her crazy. Rory’s head shoots up and almost hits Jess, her expression unnerving. “What?” her voice breaks. 

Jess bites his lip trying not to laugh and leans on the wall next to him. “Yeah, I mean, that it’s set. Why? Did you think I meant it like a date?” his signature smirk unbothered. Rory shakes her head frenetically. “No, no.”

“I just meant it like an appointment, nothing else.” He states nonchalantly. “Fine.” 

“That is all.” Jess points. 

“Got it.” 

“Just need a drive.” 

“I understand.” They look at each other and nod, their banter over. Jess presses his lips together and smiles smugly at her, then turns on his heels and walks away. Rory stares at him for a second before going in and heading for her room. 

Once inside, she opens her backpack and pulls out the red blanket they used for their impromptu picnic, smiling. She folds it carefully and stores it in the pocket of her largest suitcase, places a hand on top reminiscing. Today was good. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... these two, there you go. I really enjoyed writing this one, thought it was kinda cute. This is where the story really begins, there's a lot (and I mean a lot) to come from here, I promise.  
> Also, I've been planning out the whole story and every chapter, and so far I've got 28 chapters! However, the story will be a bit longer, probably around 35 to 40 chapters !!!! It's being such a ride to write, specially because there's a lot of research to do about the routes and the places to visit in each city, but I'm enjoying it so much so far!! 
> 
> It's also been super interesting to do so since I actually never been to America lol, which, brings me to my next point. Due to the fact that i'm basing this off internet research, there are some aspects of it that could be wrong sometime, so I'd really appreciate you guys calling me out on it!! I want to make this as accurate as possible, and although it takes a bit more of work, I'm really looking forward to it. 
> 
> Last but not least, I want to apologize for any mistakes made and any wrong uses of the vocabulary. Sometimes it's kinda hard to remember the right words, since I'm not a native speaker! 
> 
> That's all for now, I hope you have an amazing week!!!


	5. synchronicity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rory and Jess leave Portland for Manchester on a quiet morning. A day in the city turns out to be filled with lots of thinking and new plans.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for your kind comments on the last one, I appreciate it endlessly ❤︎ I'm sorry for the slow update, but I got some good news at the end of this chapter, which by the way, I really enjoyed writing! Hope you do so too reading it!

It is 9:25 the following day when Rory decides to walk out of the hotel after having had breakfast and wait for Jess. She figures it’s the perfect time, not too early but still early enough to be able to wait for him just a few minutes.Just as she takes a step out of the glass door, she sees Jess walking towards her, carrying what seems to be a bag of breakfast muffins. 

“It’s 9:25.” She frowns.

“Hello to you too.” Jess stands in front of her, carrying his gigantic backpack. 

“We said 9:30.” Rory says with a pout. Jess balances his weight on his heels and stares at her impatiently. “Okay, fill me in, I don’t understand how this is a problem.” 

“Because…” she glares at him for a second before realizing how ridiculous she’s being and looks away, blushing lightly. “If I chose to come out at 9:30 then you would’ve been out here waiting and that’d be embarrassing.” She explains between teeth. Jess chuckles and rolls his eyes; she is quite unbelievable sometimes. 

“Geez, Rory. You’re such a punctuality freak.” He laughs. Rory lets out a nervous laugh and shakes her head, feeling awfully self-conscious. Jess watches her anxiously pull at the hem of her sweater and lets out a breath.“Here. Have a muffin.” He offers, trying to calm her down and hands her the white paper bag. A smile spreads on Rory’s face as she takes hold of it and picks a muffin.

They head for the small parking lot that is next to the hotel, where Rory’s car is and pack Jess’ backpack in the trunk. He walks to the driver’s side and Rory stares confused.

“I figured since you’ve been driving the past couple days you could use some rest.” He shrugs. She contemplates the idea for a second and walks towards the passenger’s side anyways. She looks at him over the roof of her car and finally speaks: “And you know how to drive”, the statement sounds more like a question. 

“Possibly.” He dismisses her declaration. Rory stands before the door and crosses her arms, cocks an eyebrow at him. “Oh, come on! You’re not really going to ask me to show you my license!” he complains. She doesn’t move, raises her eyebrow higher at him. Jess lets out a huff in disbelief and scrambles to look for his license in his pockets. He hands it to her over the roof, and she stares at it intently, holds it underneath the sunlight and scratches it with a nail. “I swear it’s real.” Jess deadpans, but Rory shushes him. 

“I’m getting older here.” 

“As long as you don’t go blind. We need your eyes.” She says and tosses him the plastic, along with the keys. Jess struggles to catch them and she rolls her eyes playfully, then gets into the car, with him following. “Now drive, Mariano. I don’t have all day.” Rory orders, lifting her chin lightly. 

“I knew I shouldn’t have let you see my license.” Jess complains, pulling on the seatbelt and securing it. “No more Mariano, okay?” He points a finger at Rory. She mock salutes him with a serious expression: “Whatever you say, sir.” 

With a roll of his eyes, Jess comes to the conclusion that it will be completely impossible to beat Rory on this one, so he simply starts the car and drives them out of the parking lot. It doesn’t take long for them to get out of the city, and within fifteen minutes, they’re already driving on I-95. “You just gotta drive all the way to North Hampton and then turn right on 101.” Rory says, scanning a small map she took out of the glove compartment. She is sitting with a leg pulled underneath her body, facing lightly towards Jess. 

“You may want to jot that down, not sure I can hold on to that much information.” He replies with sarcasm. “Maybe you’d like to give more precise directions. Should I drive on the right or left lane?” 

“Okay, I give up.” Rory crosses her arms and closes her eyes, leaning back. 

“Wait no, no sleeping on the car. I need you to supervise my driving.” Jess insists, taking a quick peek at Rory’s seat. She turns her head to the window, away from Jess and closes her eyes even harder. “Now you’re on your own.” She says calmly. 

“But what if I need you to hold the wheel while I eat a muffin?” He asks, clearly chewing onto something. “There’s not eating in my car.” She says pointedly, then reaches towards Jess and takes the muffin from his hand, her eyes still closed. She takes a bite of it before placing it back into the paper bag between them leans back once again. 

“I thought you said no eating.” Jess frowns, his eyes glued to the road. There’s no answer, Rory’s soft breath the only sound heard. He takes a look at her and she’s fast asleep, snuggled against the door. With a gentle sigh, Jess diverts his gaze back to the road. _So much for hoping they would be talking more._

It is an hour later when Rory wakes up, feeling awfully confused. She squints at the light and grumps, stretching on her seat. Jess looks at her with a smile, chuckling a bit. “Hey there, Sleepy Jean”, he greets her, and she grunts in acknowledgment. 

“Where are we?” Rory asks, sitting up straight and scanning the landscape around them: it’s pretty much just trees. Lots of trees on both sides of the road, tall, and green and… Trees. “Just passed Portsmouth.” 

“Aw, man!” she moans. “I missed most of the trip!” It’s true, she fell asleep almost as soon as they got to the highway, and now, they’ve almost arrived to Manchester. She missed the pit stop they made before getting to Portsmouth, when Jess was eager to find a toilet, and also missed how hard he tried to wake her up there, calling after her and shaking her lightly so she could maybe also go to the restroom or buy snacks (because now, he knows better than to keep Rory from eating, her attitude when waiting to eat pizza from the previous night has taught him that). She wasn’t awake to witness Jess’ performance of a few Fleetwood songs (which by the way, is just as hilarious as it sounds), and also slept through the fifteen minutes it took him to silently eat a whole package of Oreos. 

“You’ve already seen all of this, Ror. Nothing new.” He tries. And he’s right, she traveled all the way from Concord to Portland through I-95. 

“Yeah, but I was on my own, and, I was driving.” She tells him. “What if while we’re traveling you decide to tell me some sort of childhood story about the one time your parents took you to Mount Washington and they accidentally took the longer route because they didn’t have as many maps as we do—“, she pulls out one of her maps and shakes it lightly, trying to make a point, “—and you ended up in I-95 and somehow you got dizzy and threw up next to the road? Then you would point out that exact place along the road and what I initially thought of it when I drove past it a couple days ago is now completely changed!” she finishes in a dash. How she’s able to speak that much, Jess won’t ever be able to tell. 

“First of all, I don’t do childhood stories. Second, I’d be crazy lucky if my mom took me anywhere with her,” they are now about to reach a toll plaza, “and third, why would she take me to Mount Washington?”, he asks taking a look at her. Rory seems to think of an answer as she stares at him, mouth agape. 

“Because you like extreme weather?” she tries. Jess lets out a huff and shakes his head. “I don’t like any kind of weather”, he points, making Rory roll her eyes. She thinks of asking him about his mother, now that she knows he also was raised by a single mother (he did exclude the word _parents,_ and she believes it is enough of a statement), but her questions are soon forgotten once they reach an intersection. “Turn right!” she almost screams, making Jess jump. However, it’s too late and he’s already passed the right exit. 

“I could’ve crashed!” he complains. 

“Yeah, and you totally missed the exit!” she scolds him and puts her face to her hands. “I told you earlier we had to turn right at 101! And you made fun of me for it!”

“Well, you distracted me with all your babbling about my childhood stories!” Rory glares at him and pulls out a map, trying to find the closest return. “Great, now we’re behind schedule.” She goes on about. 

“Stop it, we’ll get there, alright? Just tell me what to do.” He presses his lips together and takes a deep breath, trying to calm down too. “Yeah, because that worked out so well before.” Rory scoffs. They remain in silence for a few seconds before she speaks again: “Just keep driving. There’s a return four miles away”, she states quietly, looking through her window. Jess just hums in acknowledgment and keeps driving. _Way to go_. 

A couple of minutes pass and the silence’s lethal, feels like it’s been hours since either of them said a word. Rory’s still looking through her window, hugging herself tightly. Taking a rather deep breath, Jess glances over her seat, bites his lip and decides it’s been enough (four exact minutes): “I’m sorry” he says softly. His words surprise Rory, and she turns her head to him with an astonished expression. “I know you had told me before to make that turn. And it’s not your fault— the babbling thing I said, it’s not true. It was fun, actually.” His voice is low, but sincere; he truly means it. Rory gives him a small smile and nods in understanding. “Okay”, her voice is small, almost inaudible, and it makes Jess shiver, feeling pretty certain she was trying hard to hold back tears. They reach the return and make their way back to the toll. It’s quiet again. 

“Hey, you wanna listen to some music?” Her words are louder now, much happier, and Jess feels relieved that they’re okay, lets out a breath he had no idea he was holding. “Yeah, sure.” 

Rory smiles and turns on her place, reaching the backseat and apparently scrambling for some CDs. She finally pulls one out and turns to the dashboard again, placing it in and pressing play. A soft, fast synth fills the car and Jess lets out a chuckle. 

“Totally pictured you as a _Police_ fan.” He shoots Rory one of his rare —yet genuine— smiles. “And what is that supposed to mean?” she questions with a stern look on her face, trying hard not to smile back at him. Jess shrugs and keeps driving, the hint of a playful smirk on his lips. Rory stares at him for a second before turning back to the road, humming lightly to the catchy melody of _Synchronicity I._ Not too long after, Jess is thoughtlessly doing the same, and Rory looks at him from the corner of her eye with a smile. She thinks about it, about them, how she _knows_ he feels at ease with her, and finds no other explanation than the synchronicity between their minds, maybe even so, between their souls.

The small detour adds only fifteen minutes to their trip, and they soon reach the outskirts of Manchester. “What’s your plan?” Jess asks in between Sting’s _Murder by Numbers —_ the last track of the album. Rory lowers the volume of the music and pulls a leg underneath her body, turning to face Jess. “I think I’m going to the Currier Museum… then I’ll get a late lunch and probably just wander around. You’re coming with?” she tries to keep her tone even, nonchalant, wishing she wasn’t so hopeful he’d say yes. Her hopes, however, are soon deflated once he presses his lips tightly and shakes his head. _Oh._

“I think I’ll try to find another ride, keep traveling… Don’t think I can manage to spend the day here after being in Portland, honestly.” He turns right, drives through the city following the signs that go downtown. He knows Rory wants him to stay, knows she’d like him to come on this trip at least for a couple of days more, but he can’t bring himself to do so. Rory’s nice, probably the nicest person he’s ever met. She’s got a big plan, alongside with big goals for this trip, knows what she’s doing, has compromised to finish it. She also knows where she’s going, and has a home to get back to. 

On the other hand, he does not know absolutely nothing about himself, only that he’s got to keep moving. One would think he was escaping from something, maybe even a crime, but in reality, is far simpler than that —and at the same time, far more complicated. For all he knows, he’s escaping himself, looking to get somewhere he does not know and start fresh. He doesn’t have what Rory does, a place he can call home, and so, it’s alright for him to just keep moving across the state with no game plan whatsoever. He’s looking to get away, is doing so with the money he’s saved from his several jobs of the past few years (every single penny that’s come his away ever since he was sixteen), and is hoping to soon find a place to stay at least for a couple months; because that’s what he does, he doesn’t settle, he keeps going, has been doing so ever since he can remember, and will probably keep doing so. He leaves places, it’s his nature, a simple one; but also leaves people behind. And because of this, he knows he can’t come with Rory, because he _just knows_ that there’ll come a time he’ll leave, without notice, without warning, and she’ll be forced to be on the road on her own once again. He thinks ( _knows_ ) it’s better to have her keep going on her own than to actually join her for a while and then leave without her knowing, and for the first time ever with anyone, he thinks she’s better off without the knowledge of what he’s really like. For the first time, he cares about what it may feel like. 

Rory gives him quiet directions to the museum —it’s a small city, with little to no traffic—, and they manage to get there in no time. Jess stops the engine in the parking lot just outside the building and takes a deep breath, leaning back on the seat. “So, we’re here.” She just nods. 

She wants to get over it, the disappointment of knowing he’s looking to continue his trip, knows she just met him a couple of days ago, but can’t. Traveling with Jess is still a mystery to her, has no idea of what it would really be like, has no idea of what _he_ really is like, but it’s a mystery she’s curious about, one she wants to figure out. For all she knows, it could be awful —Jess could turn out to be some weirdo escaping the law, or something along those lines—, could even be dangerous, but somehow, something tells her it’s not going to be like that. Something tells her it’s just _Jess_ , a quiet guy she met at a museum, a quiet guy who likes books and music and who’s pretty much a pain to everybody except for her; a quiet, sarcastic guy she’s really enjoyed to spend time with. For all she knows, Jess is just like her, someone looking to find something on the road, and she’s ( _more than_ ) okay with it; with him sticking around. 

However, he’s not doing so. He’s going, leaving within the next couple minutes for god knows where (because she knows he does not have a real plan, goes wherever the road takes him), and the idea makes her dizzy. It’s the third time in the past couple days she’s faced with the question of if she’s ever going to see him again, and just as all of the other times, she’s got no idea of the answer. Maybe she’ll do, have fate bring them together once again like it’s done all throughout this week. But she also knows it’s not all about fate, wants to really believe, but can’t. She wishes to feel confident enough about their developing friendship to give him her number, ask him to call sometime, but has big trouble with it. And so, she lets it go. 

“Come, we should get your backpack out the trunk”, she says after a few seconds (minutes? hours?), opens the door and gets out. Jess sits still, looking out the window and lets out a sigh. He wants to stay for this trip, heck, thinks he would love to do it for way longer, doesn’t feel like forever’s too much, but knows he can’t. He rubs his eyes with the back of his hand and gets out, following Rory to the back of her grey Prius. How she’s going to travel across the whole country in this thing, he has no idea. 

Rory’s standing next to the car, the trunk open. Her expression ir serious, but Jess can’t quite make an idea of what her feelings currently are. She does not look mad or sad, but she doesn’t look thrilled either. She’s just standing, right before him, but probably also a hundred miles away from him, away, away. He contemplates his backpack in the trunk, and when he finally chooses pick it, it’s heavier, almost impossible to lift. 

They stand in silence, staring at each other. What should be said in these cases? A plain goodbye seems too impersonal, an actual farewell too personal. 

“So… You should probably keep going.” Rory points at his backpack. 

“Yeah, probably.” But he does not dare to move. Instead, he speaks. “You should go in. I hear it’s cool.” He moves his head, gesturing to the building. Rory nods, a soft smile painted on her face, as she takes a step back from him, breaking whatever connection had been established between them. 

“Good luck, Jess”, she says softly, fiddling with her car keys, “take care.” She means it, hopes deeply he will be alright, maybe cares too much. A side of Jess’ mouth quirks up and he flashes her a crooked smile. “I will, Ror.” He nods, “promise you’ll do all 48”, he adds. She does not answer, instead, moves thoughtlessly towards him and hugs him. Astounded, Jess stumbles, but soon wraps his arms around her tightly before letting go. No more words are exchanged, and Rory soon walks away with a bright smile, gives him a small wave before heading in. _Bye Rory_. 

Jess finds it weird now to walk the streets of the city without a company, Rory’s specifically. He thinks about it, how ridiculous it is. He’s always walked alone, has always known it would always be like that. Except maybe now he’s not so sure. Now, for once in his life, he thinks about the possibility of having someone to walk with (to walk _to_ ). 

He always thought of himself as the lonely type, someone who needs no one because he has never had anyone. After having spent a couple of hours the past days with Rory, apparently it’s changed. Maybe it’s having someone who listens and someone to listen to, someone you could consider relying on. Maybe it’s also how Rory’s company is easy to get used to, how she speaks as if she’d known you her whole life, with confidence, with apparent comfort. Maybe, it’s just the fact it was Rory, a girl he bumped into three days in a row with no plans of doing so whatsoever, without having an idea of what her plans were, or what kind of trip she was doing. For once, he thinks about it being fate, having this girl appear all out of sudden to show him what having a friend is like, what having someone to trust feels like. He thinks about fate being responsible for having him meet someone willing to show him what actual dreams look like, someone to teach him to plan ahead, to hope for something, because up until now, he has never hoped for anything (his mother taught him that, to never have any kind of hopes, because one way or another, they’ll always disappoint). 

Now, walking through Manchester on his own is painfully lonely without Rory’s unstoppable blabbering, her nervous rambles, her excitement for life. Jess thinks he’s feeling sick, suddenly itching with excitement for finding something to look forward to the same way Rory does. He hasn’t been excited since he was four, when it was Christmas and his mother got them a miniature tree to decorate (which ended up stacked on the stairs that led to their apartment, dry and ugly, with no one daring to take it out because the leaves were so dried out they would bury into your skin like needles), hasn’t felt sick since he was thirteen and was crazy worried that his mom hadn’t been to the flat for three days in a row (she had gone to Atlantic City with a friend and came back with not a single penny). 

He now stands before the entrance of what seems to be a park, without actually knowing how he got there, too busy thinking about his ache for find what Rory has (stability, happiness, excitement), and walks in, wanders beneath the trees until he reaches a somewhat tall building between the trees, on top of a hill, something he knows is the Weston Observatory (he read it earlier on Rory’s map), and turns around, stares at the city from up there. It’s quiet (too quiet for a Wednesday at lunch time, when everyone should supposedly be leaving their offices to get something to eat), and he chooses to sit down on the grass, take the calmness this city radiates in (he doesn’t believe in such thing, having the vibe of something rub off onto you, but for once wants to trust his mother’s words, how good and bad energies are transferred from one to another). 

It’s nothing like New York. There’s no fuss, no actual noise coming from it. There are no gigantic buildings that reach the sky, and there’s not a thin layer of smog covering the city. It’s just clouds, and birds, and trees, and calmness, and he’s not entirely sure what he thinks about it. He misses the noise, misses how messed up the city is (it reminds him of himself, how damaged he is), misses everyone’s harsh attitude towards life, because that’s how he is; because that’s what he’s always thought he deserves. He does not, however, have to miss the lightness there is in feeling anonymous, because no matter where he’s going now, he is able to remain unknown. It’s also what Rory wanted, for no one to know her story. What is Rory running from? He’d like to think she’s doing the same he is, looking to find a place away from it all, but knows she isn’t, she’s too attached to her mom. For all he knows, she probably’s not even running away from something, is just looking for an adventure. 

However, he does not know she is indeed escaping, escaping from a town that has been home for the longest time, but to which she is so engraved to, she feels like she can’t breath without it(and the people who live there) anymore. He does not know she’s escaping because she’s not her anymore, but instead, an extension of this place, of its history, of everything that’s ever come out of it, also ignores the fact that she’s actually running because she _needs_ to be herself and not just another story for this town to tell. She also feels the need to separate her person from Yale, because for all her life she’s been focused on getting in an Ivy League college and now feels like without this, she’s got nothing, no personality, and no other interests. 

Jess does not know Rory’s gone away because, like him, she’s looking to find a place that only belongs to her, somewhere she’s able to feel every single thing that makes her Rory, somewhere she’s allowed to change the story. Nonetheless, he’s willing to find out. 

Sitting there, staring at the city, worrying about when the next bus is leaving, he knows what he’s got to do.

Rory’s day consisted of her visit to the Currier Museum (which she hoped would take more of her time, but resulted on a one hour visit), lots of thinking about Jess, a half an hour walk to Livingston park (and lunch just outside at some sort of takeout place she couldn’t quite describe, and which had quite awful coffee), and a second thirty minute walk to Zimmerman House, where she took a tour of the place, and later on a taxi which drove her to the Millyard Museum. Once she finished her visit to Millyard, however, she was faced with the fact that she had actually left her car at the Currier Museum and now had to get back there to pick it up (because even when she’s a great planner, sometimes she forgets this sort of stuff). A third half an hour walk did not sound too good, another taxi ride meant spending money she was not willing to let go off, and taking a bus meant walking for twenty minutes anyway, so finally, she chose the first, walking again. 

Now, reaching Currier Museum once again after a total of an hour and a half of walking throughout the whole of the day, Rory’s feeling awfully tired, quite bummed about not having drunk decent coffee in the past five or six hours, and even more exhausted about thinking of Jess for most of her day. She’s so done of thinking about him that when she sees him sitting next to her car on the sidewalk, with his backpack laid on the pavement behind him, she thinks she’s hallucinating him. Except she’s not, and once he sees her, he stands up, shaking the dust off his pants and straightening his jacket. 

“Wh—What are you doing here?” her voice trembles. He's supposed to leave, go away, keep traveling, yet he’s here, waiting for her ever since god knows when, sitting on the floor, getting suspicious looks from every single person that walks past him. 

“There’s this really cool place I found we can have dinner at.” He says, tries to keep his tone plain, but his nerves manage to show through. 

“You did not leave.” Rory’s astounded, can’t make sense of either his words or her own, can’t quite understand what he’s still doing here, specially what he’s doing right in front of her, standing a couple of feet away, nervously fidgeting with the corners of a book he’s pulled out of his back pocket, per usual. 

“If we leave now we can get there before the place’s packed, it’s only 5:45.” He’s being evasive and he knows it, is not really looking to explain why he’s still here. 

The truth is, once he realized he was aching for company and for an actual plan on his life; once he realized he was looking for something to chase, he knew he had to get back. It may be foolish, to feel like Rory’s what he needs, what and who he’d like to follow across the country when he’s only known her for a couple of days, but he knows by now how much he admires her, how much interest he’s got now for this trip she’s making, for her. He wants to keep going, keep traveling, and was too afraid before to do so with Rory because he _knows_ he’s one that leaves, but for once, actually feels like there’s a reason to stay. It’s all Rory, how contagious her whole energy is, how much fun he’s had with her, and how much he’s looking to keep experiencing it. Because for the first time in his life, he wants to do something for himself, wants this trip to be something that makes him happy instead of being another escape from the mess that is his life back in New York. He wants Rory to be the reason he’s traveling because he actually enjoys her company, instead of being forced to go on a trip because he’s been kicked out by his drunk mother at 2 a.m. He wants to travel because he likes it, and with Rory, he actually feels like he’s got something to look forward to (a plan, a schedule, a goal, 48 states, a dream, whatever). 

They get dinner at an Italian restaurant —which consists of a few tables in a small patio decorated with bougainvilleas— and discuss some authors (mostly Hemingway and Rand), talk about a few movies, and tell each other some of their favorite albums. Their talk comes to a peaceful stop and Jess stares down at his food for a second, contemplates what he’s going to say next. 

“So—“, he looks up from his plate, fidgets with the fork for a bit, “—forty eight states.” His voice is low and raspy, and a tiny bit of emotion manages to show through. He’s nervous, doesn’t know how to do this. He doesn’t need to, anyway. Rory’s staring at him with a soft smile, nodding slightly. “Yeah, forty eight.” It’s all he needs to hear, reciprocates the smile she gives him and lowers his gaze again, focusing a bit too much on his plate of pasta, a silent agreement made between them both. Rory examines his movements and smiles to herself. _Forty eight states and Jess._

Later that same night, they find themselves looking for a place to stay. It’s been a long day, full of walking (for both of them), and although Jess has tried to convince Rory to try to find their own fun again in this small city, she’s far too exhausted to even try to do so. 

They drive to the other side of Merrimack river, heard there’s a cheap (and acceptable) place they can stay at from a guy at the restaurant, and arrive soon enough. It’s a brick three-story building with a rather large parking lot to the front next to the road, an _Econo Lodge_. They take out their essentials for the night (which consist of Jess’ backpack he’s pretty much always carrying and Rory’s dark blue suitcase) and go in. It’s a pretty place, spacious and with— well, with okay furniture (it’s not bad, it’s just the patterns are a bit outdated) and a small registration desk, a brunette lady behind it. She’s reading some sort of book or magazine ( _bookazine?_ ) and wears a pair of pearl toned glasses. 

Jess stands before her and clears his throat, looking to get her attention. The lady lifts a finger, telling him to wait and keeps reading her magazine, receiving curious looks from both Jess and Rory. Finally, she looks up at them with a big smile, apologizing, closing the magazine and putting it away. 

“How can I help you?” she asks, then shakes her head vigorously with a bigger smile. “What silly question, excuse me. You need a room, of course”, she says, pulling out a big notebook and opening it to a new page. Jess and Rory give each other a look and try to talk, but the woman speaks a mile per hour an won’t let them explain. “We got this newer suite with the bigger bed, gorgeous room, I’d like it in your situation.” She says with a playful tone and pulls out a key from underneath the desk. 

“Actually, we need two rooms.” Jess says. 

“Two?” the woman asks rather disappointed. 

“Yeah. Two. That’s two different rooms with two different beds, two different windows, two different bathrooms—“ Jess starts listing, knows he’s soon going to get annoying to this lady. It works and she quickly asks them both to write their names on the book and hands them two keys (for _two different bedrooms),_ then gets back to her magazine. 

“You’re annoying.” Rory says as their walk through the hallways in order to get to their rooms. 

“Huh. That explains her reaction.” He replies with sarcasm, nodding towards the front desk. They get to their rooms (16 and 17, respectively) and have a brief discussion on _which number Rory thinks is better_ , complete with express pro-con lists and a comfortability and cleanliness test ran by Rory. 

Jess is already lying down on one of the beds as Rory walks from one of the rooms to the other, going on and about on how it’s always important to check the pillows, to know the fastest way to the emergency exit, to disinfect the TV remote, and _do not lay there, we haven’t even checked for bed bugs yet!_

_“_ I want this room.” She says, walking into room 16 with her suitcase. Jess is still lying down, with a hand over his eyes to block the light. “No”, he grunts. “What’s wrong with the other one? It’s not fair I get sent to the uglier room.” He moves up, props his head on his hand and stares at Rory as she sits on the edge of the bed and pulls the tight hair tie she’s been wearing all day in a half pony, letting her hair fall down. 

“It is fair. You did _nothing_ while I was inspecting both rooms. And there’s nothing wrong,” she turns to Jess, leaning back on a hand, “it’s just the closet door, it makes an awful sound when you open it, and the whole piece of furniture creaks, and I was thinking, what if it rains later —you know how it was a bit cloudy earlier before—, and the humidity makes the wood expand and it makes so much more noise?” She tells him. _Is she being serious?_ “But I didn’t think you’d actually mind”, she shrugs. Jess stares at her amused (because it’s a feeling he gets quite frequently whenever he’s with Rory), and tries hard not to laugh at her detailed explanation of how the closet creaks. “Well, as a matter of fact, I do mind. You think a guy like me would be okay to sleep with such annoying sounds? I try to get a good night sleep, but apparently life does not agree with me.” He says sarcastically. 

“Okay, no offense but get out.” She stands up and signals towards the door, giving Jess a stern look. “No, I’m serious, I am a really light sleeper, the softest sound could actually mess up my whole night, I would rather stay here, where I’m assured to get a few hours of rest.” He lays back down. 

“Out, I said.” Rory says lightly pulling on his jacket, but he does not move a bit. She rolls her eyes and observes him, how he’s smirking slightly at her with his eyes closed. “If you do not get out I’m leaving tomorrow without telling you about it.” 

“Fine, I’m going.” Jess sits with his hands held up in mock surrender, looks up at Rory, who’s standing at the foot of the bed with crossed arms. They’re close ( _too close_ ), and the slightest move from either of them could either end in _a)_ Rory falling over him or _b)_ their heads smacking against each other hardly if he tries to stand up. She’s close enough for him to reach an arm behind her waist and pull her over, close enough to feel her knees rubbing against his’ and— she takes a step back and turns to the desk, hands him the book he left there when they first entered the room and walks to the door, opens it and waits for Jess to leave. He doesn’t move, remains seated staring at her with his lips slightly parted, seems to be far, far away. Rory clears her throat and just like that, in lightning speed, Jess stands up, straightens his jacket and jeans, takes his backpack off the floor and key off Rory’s hand and leaves, without saying a word, without even looking at her. He _is_ weird. 

After taking a shower and reading for a little bit, Rory sits on the edge of her bed staring at her feet. It’s still early, and she doesn’t want to sleep yet, but she doesn’t know what else to do, so, she decides Jess’ company right now wouldn’t be so bad, that is, if he’s okay with it. She takes a deep breath and pulls out a few of her maps from her suitcase, then, with all the nerve she’s got, she leaves her room and stands before Jess’ door. She knocks and hears some noise inside (apparently some scrambling around, looking for something), and then he opens the door, pulling a red t-shirt over his head and his torso. “Hey.” His hair is still wet and it falls over his eyes in small strands. 

Rory’s blushing furiously, looks away immediately and then focuses her gaze on Jess’ ear, evading any eye contact. “Hey. I was thinking we could check out tomorrow’s route, plan something we’re both okay with, but it’s kinda late,and you may want to be alone, and I clearly did not think this through but I’m going—“ Jess holds Rory’s wrist as she turns to leave and stares at her. “I was coming to get you, anyways, so you saved me a trip.” He says softly and moves aside, opening the door fully so Rory can come in. “Thanks.” She mumbles. 

She walks in and lays her maps on the desk, pulls out the chair and sits down. Jess is now rubbing his hair with a towel, trying to dry it, and sits on the edge of the bed next to Rory. “So what’s the plan?” he asks over her shoulder. He’s now turnt the TV on and is flicking through every channel, listens to whatever Rory has to say. 

“Let’s see…”, she unfolds the larger map, but stops suddenly. “It’s Cleveland. That’s like a ten hour drive.” She turns her head to Jess, clearly panicked. “I did not plan this through, I don’t want a ten hour drive!” 

“Do you want to watch _Pretty Woman_? We should watch _Pretty Woman_. Look. It’s on TV.” he says, signaling towards the monitor with the remote. 

“Did you hear what I said?” she pulls the TV remote from Jess’ hand and tosses it on the bed behind him. He rolls his eyes and looks at her, clenching his jaw. “Yeah, I heard, and you should calm down. I’ll fix it. Now, you watch TV.” he stands up and hurries her off the chair. “But the route— We can’t just… Why should I trust you with a new route?” She asks, as Jess pushes her towards the bed and signals her to sit. 

“Shhh. Julia Roberts’ talking.” he shushes her and turns back towards the chair and the desk, sitting down. He knows Rory’s staring at him, can feel her gaze on his back. “I'm good with routes, just trust me. Now, eyes on the TV, I said.” 

“Fine.” Rory says reluctantly, crossing her arms and focusing on the movie playing. 

Jess glances quickly towards her and smiles lightly, shaking his head, then looks down at the map and plays with a red pen between his fingers, reads the name of every road, highway and city along the way. Suddenly, he has an idea and starts marking their new route. It certainly will be a surprise for Rory, but he’s sure she’ll like it. 

“What are you doing?” he hears her ask. “Nothing. Richard Gere's on TV, watch.” He points again towards the television and then keeps writing on the map. _It'll be good_ , he thinks, just as Roy Orbison starts blasting through the TV and Rory sings along. 

_a) Currier Museum of Art; b) Livingston Park; c) Zimmerman House; d) Manchester Historic Association Millyard Museum; Econo Lodge (bottom left)._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I really wanted to upload this way sooner, but last week was kind of rough and I was struggling far too much with my writing. But I'm much better now, so here it is!  
> Now, for the news; I'll be trying to update twice a week over the next month, since I think this fic's going be around for longer than I expected and once I go back to college in September I won't have as much time to do so. However, I can't make any promises, since I'm taking an Egyptology course and writing for a mag at the moment, and it's taking quite some time off my day, sorry!  
> I really hope you're doing amazing, and thank you so much for all the positive feedback, I appreciate it so, so much!! all your messages have made me infinitely happy, filled my heart with lots of love!!  
> and lastly, as a reminder, I'm on instagram! (@literatiangel)  
> Xxx


	6. a new route

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jess comes up with a surprise plan for Rory. Luke leaves Stars Hollow to help his sister Liz and her husband after an accident.

“Please, just give me a clue.” Rory begs, as they pick up their coffee mugs and walk towards the machine. The dining room consists of a few tables surrounded by a coffee machine, a mini fridge and a cereal bar. 

“I’ve given you enough clues already, Ror.” Jess says as he picks up a cereal bowl and fills it with Raisin Bran. 

“You only told me to dress comfortably and wear my hiking boots!” she turns and walks back to their tiny table. She takes a look at Jess’ bowl and makes a face. “You’re not seriously eating Raisin Bran.” She says disgusted. 

“Yes, I am.” he replies while chewing on a spoonful of the cereal. 

“Gross.” Rory wrinkles her nose and takes a sip of her coffee, turning with horror. “Give me the Raisin Bran.” She deadpans as she pushes her mug away, making Jess let out a small laugh and hand her his bowl, then standing up to get another one for himself. He hopes to keep eating breakfast in comfortable silence, but Rory’s got other plans, anxious to know where they may be going. She’s certain they’re not headed for Cleveland just yet, and that Jess has planned for them to make some stop on the road, hence the hiking boots, but she’s got no idea where that stop is (or stops), can’t even check it on her maps because Jess has already taken them all so she won’t figure it out. 

“Is it a park? We’re going to the forest, right?” she asks. Jess doesn’t talk, instead just looks down at his bowl, biting his lip. It’s all Rory needs for an answer. “Ah! In which park?” she keeps asking, even when they’ve both finished their breakfasts and are now walking back to their rooms to pick up their belongings. “Just tell me if there’s a river! Or a mountain!” Jess stands on the doorframe of his room and stares at her with furrowed eyebrows, then closes his door. “A lake?” he hears her muffled voice say. 

“Go away!” he tells her from his side of the door. 

“Fine.” she reluctantly leaves. 

The drive to their first destination is two hours long, throughout which Rory doesn’t stop asking Jess what he’s planned. Finally, he can’t take it anymore and tells her where they’re headed. 

“Fine, I’ll tell you what we’re doing right now.” He sighs behind the wheel. “We’re going to stop near Haystack Mountain. We’ll look around for a bit —we are _not_ going to walk the whole trail, that’s a bit advanced and my hiking’s a bit rusty—, and then we come back here. That should take us like uhhh— two hours? I don’t know.” He keeps his eyes glued to the two-way road, which winds underneath the trees. “Are you happy now?” he glances at her.

“Very, thank you.” she smiles brightly. They soon reach Wilmington, where the trail starts, and park the car close enough. They start making their way through the it, and they’re a good fifteen minutes in when they realize the wind is a bit colder than they expected. Rory looks for a sweater in her backpack, but realizes she didn’t pack any, having left them all in her suitcase, which, of course, is in the car. “Aw, man.” she complains. 

Jess, who has just pulled a grey cable knit sweater out of his backpack (not the huge one he’s always with, but a smaller one he’s put all his essentials for the day in), turns to Rory and hands her a green sweatshirt. “Here.” She stares at him surprised and slowly reaches for it. 

“What’s this?” she asks confused, knows how silly she just sounded. “I mean—“

“It’s a sweater, you put your arms through those long—“

“Thank you,” she softly interrupts him as she pulls it over her head. It’s a bit big on her, the way she has to roll the sleeves at her wrists, but she’s too busy thinking to actually care about it. Other than Dean’s and her mother’s, she’s never worn anyone else’s clothes, let alone a _guy’s._ It’s Jess’ sweater and it smells of him, soft shampoo and faint cigarettes; black coffee and old books. She’s so focused on it, she doesn’t even realize he’s standing a couple feet ahead, waiting for her. 

“Let’s go, Ror. You’re gonna like it.” He points towards the path with a head movement and waits for her. 

It’s not an easy hike, filled with rocks and old, crunchy branches laid on the path, metal staircases with slippery moss. Forty-five minutes in, they both decide to head back to the car, right after Rory trips over a rock and hits her elbow on a branch. It leaves a small bruise, but it’s proof enough for both of them that maybe hiking is not their thing; there’s insects, and dirt, and a slight breeze that messes with their hair, and crunchy branches, and slippery steps, and it’s too much for two young adults whose biggest interaction with nature is sitting underneath trees to read. 

“At least say you enjoyed it.” Jess says once they’re out of the trail and back on the street. He’s tone is a bit playful, but Rory can notice how he basically pleads for her to say it was good. And it was. There was not much talk between them during the past hour and a half other than warnings over obstacles they encountered, but it was fun (specially when Rory fell and her main worry was having gotten dirt on Jess’ sweater). 

“I really did.” she smiles his way as they stand on opposite sides of the car. A slight smile grows on Jess’ face and he gives her a nod, unlocking the car and getting in. 

“So, what now?” Rory asks, tugging on her seatbelt. 

“Well… There’s two things we could do, you’re gonna like them.”

“What is it?” she smiles brightly, and Jess tries not to get too distracted by it as he starts the car, the way her eyes shine with excitement and her nose perks up. 

“We, uh—“, he takes a deep breath and focuses on the road ahead, “I was thinking maybe Robert Frost museum? It’s thirty minutes from here. There’s also Hildene —Lincoln’s family home—, there’s some cool views around there…” he drifts away, lets Rory decide what she would like to do better. “Could it be both?” she asks hopefully. Jess smiles and nods, glancing her way shortly. “Of course.” He’s noticed over the past twenty-four hours he finds himself saying those words quite frequently; when Rory asked if there was a way they could have ice-cream late the previous night and he went out looking for a 7-Eleven in an unknown city, when she asked if there was time to stop by a bookstore wherever they were going, and when she asked Jess if he could lend her some of her books (which he actually never does). He is scared now that maybe he can’t say no to her, to those bright blue eyes that shine every time the slightest thing makes her happy. 

The drive to the Robert Frost house museum is pretty short, and they decide to get lunch before actually heading to the museum, which is a beautiful house, located in a wide garden with the greenest grass ever. As Jess walks to the house, Rory takes hold of his wrist and pulls him back. “Wait. I was thinking… Maybe… We could walk around for a little bit, if you’re okay with it.”

“I am. It’s a pretty day.” He looks up to the sky, which is a beautiful shade of blue, _but nothing compared to Rory’s eyes_ , he thinks. When he turns his head, she’s staring at him with a soft smile, looking delicately at the way his neck elongated as he looked up and at the slight smile he had on his face. “What?” he asks. 

“Nothing… I just— I’m having fun, thank you”, she looks down at her shoes as they walk, stares at a pebble and kicks it. “I’m glad.” He looks at her, and feels glad too, the fact that he decided to come along with her on this trip, wonders about whether if he had left the previous day, would something bigger than them have brought them back together, wants to believe that maybe some of his mother’s sayings are right for once and that it’s fate, what’s going on here. He stands there, sharing a smile with her, but suddenly feels too self-aware, is afraid that he’s showing too much emotion, and turns away. “Come, let’s head inside, we’ll get more time to walk around at Hildene,”, he signals the house and starts walking back to the house, taking long steps. Rory doesn’t move, instead, smiles to herself and looks at Jess, who is standing excitedly next to the house and is now waiting for her —seems like he’s being doing that quite a lot today, wait for her—, and nods. “I’m sure we will”, she tells herself and makes her way towards Jess, quickening her pace a little bit. 

The museum’s pretty new (opened a couple of years before), and so, everything is well-taken care of. They spend a little while walking around —Jess reciting a few of Frost's poems by memory, Rory blushing to his side—, then join a guided visit. “I don’t like guided visits.” Jess frowns as Rory pulls him by his sleeve towards the group. 

“I’m trying to learn over here”, she shushes him, makes some hand gesture to shut him up. 

The tour is soon finished (and Jess is incredibly glad), and they’re out of the house in no time.  “Everything she said I could’ve told you.” He complains, making Rory laugh slightly. “Oh, stop it, sad boy. You _loved_ all that information and you know it.” He won’t ever admit it, but he actually did enjoy how much he managed to learn about the writer. The thing with Jess is he loves to learn, takes pride every once in a while in _admitting_ he actually is really smart, but doesn’t like people to tell him what he should be learning. “It was O.K., but we’re not ever againtaking a guided visit.” 

“Sure thing, grandpa.” Rory mock salutes him as they walk back to the car. 

“Rory.” he says sternly. She takes a glance at him and smiles reassuringly, nods slightly. 

She drives them to their next stop —Hildene—, following Jess’ messy instructions ( _keep driving and turn left. Not now, Ror, later on. I’m just giving you a heads up. Fine, you find your own way there, this is impossible. No, Rory, we’re not stopping for more coffee. Rory, focus, we still have somewhere to get to before the sun sets and if we keep making stops we’ll never get there. No, I’m not telling you where. Will you just keep driving, please? I’ll get you whatever you want for dinner, I promise_ ). 

Hildene is a gorgeous mansion located in Manchester Village, Vermont, with beautiful gardens, a farm and a pound. Once they arrive, Rory’s grin is the biggest Jess has ever seen her wear, and also the most contagious. “This is amazing”, she keeps repeating, making Jess chuckle. 

“Good, I knew you’d like it.” 

“How did you come up with all of this, Jess?” she turns to face him halfway through the garden, standing between bright pink and white carnations. He stares at her, confused, waiting for an explanation, but mostly dumbstruck by the view before him, how Rory’s rosy cheeks blend perfectly with the garden around them and her eyes stand out more than ever. “Today’s plan, I mean. How did you come up with all of this? The hike, Robert Frost… This… I spent hours devising this trip and still did not come up with such good plans as yours.” she explains, gestures around her. 

He presses his lips together and nods. “I got you some _Visit America_ travel guide kind of thing yesterday,” he says as he reaches for his back pocket and pulls out a small book with colorful pictures of iconic landmarks, “maybe it’ll give you some good ideas.” His voice is small, and it’s clear he’s a bit embarrassed about the whole “I-got-you-this-yesterday” thing. But Rory does not make a big deal out of it, instead, she stares excitedly and the book and smiles widely at him. 

“Thank you”. 

“It’s nothing.” He brushes her off. 

“You got it for me…” she keeps smiling, her cheeks starting to hurt a little bit, but she can’t help it. Jess got her a _book_. It’s good enough he got her something, even more special if it’s a book; but having him pick up a travel guide for her, Rory feels like he is encouraging her, wants her to have the perfect trip, and she’s really glad about it. Even when she received her mother’s support back in Stars Hollow, Rory still finds herself questioning if it’s the right thing to be doing, if maybe (just maybe), she should head back, have a peaceful summer with her mother and forget every idea she has in her head about searching for something (for herself). But with Jess standing before her, in the middle of this carnation garden, Rory’s sure (once again) she’s doing the right thing. 

Their visit to Hildene is longer than they expected —they visit the farm and try their signature chèvre, take a look around the garden and their hiking trails, learn about the place, and have a calmed walk back to their car before closing time at four, with a three hour drive to their last stop for the day; Siracusa, in New York. 

Jess drives again this time, with a cheerful Rory going non-stop about everything she loved about Hildene and how much her mother’s going to love the pictures they took there. He doesn’t say much, simply agrees with her, is too busy thinking when was the last time he had smiled as much as he did today. It probably was when he was a kid, around ten, and his uncle had come to the city to help him and his mother move out (again). He told Jess how he could help and taught him how to assemble one of the pieces of furniture they had taken down from their old apartment. Once they were settled in, he brought Jess an old wooden shelf ( _it belonged to your grandfather_ , he said, I _figured you could get some use out of it, for your books, I mean, uh, it’s old, but… Yeah)_ and placed it in his bedroom. Next thing he did was bring in a box filled with books, new and old. It was a gift, the first he received in the longest time, and it made him smile so much his cheeks actually hurt. “You’re a good kid, Jess,” was the last thing his uncle said as he ruffled Jess’ hair with a hand and left. He did not see him for a good couple years after that, and the good kid he had talked about grew into an angry teenager with an absent, alcoholic mother and a father he did not meet until he was eighteen. 

“Are you okay?” Rory asks after noticing Jess has remained even more quiet than usual for the past minutes. 

“Uh… Yeah. Yes. Why?” he clears his throat. “I don’t know you were… away.”

“I’m okay, I just…” he thinks about it, doesn’t really know what to tell her but the truth, “I haven’t had such a good day in a long time, Ror.” he says quietly, his voice rough. He doesn’t know where it comes from, the strength to tell Rory the truth every time, but he kind of likes it, to be capable of actually saying how things really are, to stop lying and keeping everything to himself. 

“Me too.” Rory replies and smiles, snuggles into her seat and looks at her map. Jess is far too distracted, doesn’t really notice what she’s doing. Secretly, Rory is trying to figure out Jess’ plans for tomorrow, already has an idea of what he may have in mind. 

In Syracuse, where they’ll be spending the night, dinner consists of burgers from some take-out restaurant they find and eating at the motel. 

“These are so bad.” Rory says, taking a bite of her burger. “I know.” Jess replies between bites. Still, both are too hungry to care, and their awful meals are soon finished. He stands up, claims he’s going to wash his hands and then go get them some snacks for tomorrow’s trip at the 7-Eleven he saw down the street earlier. 

Alone once again, Rory decides to make a phone call. 

“Hello?” a soft voice replies on the other side, bringing a smile to Rory’s face. 

“Lane, hi.” 

“Oh my God, Rory! Where are you? Lorelai told me you went on some sort of road trip but didn’t say anything else!” she sounds curious and excited, and Rory knows she’ll want to know absolutely everything once she tells her about her plans, and, specially, when she tells her about Jess. “Right now I’m in some cheap motel room in Syracuse.” She says as she stares at the ceiling, the way the paint’s chipping around the whole thing and how the paper on the walls is falling off at the corners. 

“That’s so cool! I’ve always wanted to stay at one of those really creepy motel rooms they mention in movies.” Lane says, and Rory knows she is smiling.

“ _Mystery Train?”_ Rory asks. “I was thinking more _Psycho.”_ Lane retorts, making Rory smile slightly. That smile, however, soon disappears as Rory sits on the edge of her bed, guiltiness filling her. “I’m sorry.” Her voice is barely whisper as she looks down at her lap. 

“Why?” Lane asks confused. 

“For not being there. We had all this summer plans… And now that you’ve moved out, there were so many things we could do together; listening to all your favorite albums without sneaking out, buying some new stuff for your house… Everything”, she sighs. It’s true, they had made lots of plans for the summer that will now have to wait. But Lane is the most understanding person Rory knows —also her best friend in the entire world—, and just as she’s always done, she supports Rory on her decision. 

“Rory, you don’t have to apologize. Yes— I will miss you, but it is what you had to do… What happened with Dean…”

“How do you know about Dean?” Rory’s voice is small, and she feels like her throat closes at the mention of his name. 

“Your mom… She kind of told me, I hope it’s okay” Lane hesitates. “Yes, yes… I was going to tell you, I just…”

“Didn’t know how.” Lane finishes for her. “Yeah.” 

“It’s okay. I understand why you had to go… and I know how trapped one can feel in this town. I know it better than anyone… I moved out, you had to leave, we have our own ways of dealing with it and… It’s okay, really. I just… I want you to be happy, Rory. You’re my best friend.” Her voice is sweet and sincere, and Rory feels like crying— not because she feels sad, but because Lane is the strongest, smartest, most sincere person she knows, and the sister she never had. For a moment, she wishes Lane was on the road with her, but also accepts the fact that they have very different paths to follow, and is okay with letting the thought go. Rory’s speechless, doesn’t really know what to tell her, knows that if she tries to speak she’ll probably cry. 

She doesn’t really need to say anything, anyways, when Lane speaks again, “Now, tell me everything.” She can hear her move around, probably get comfortable. “I want to know what it’s been like to travel on your own. And I know you literally just left a couple of days ago, but I want you to tell me. Is it weird? Being on your own? You’re always with Lorelai and if not there’s always Paris in your dorm, or someone else—“ she gets interrupted by Rory, who’s conscious she will just keep talking if she doesn’t stop her (that’s something they have in common). 

“I… I’m actually not alone. Now for now, at least…” The same wave of guiltiness washes over her and she presses her lips together tightly, awaits for Lane’s reaction. “You’re not?” She sounds surprised. She’ll sound ever more surprised once she knows who Rory’s traveling with— some guy who’s a complete stranger from New York she’s bumped into several times and decided to invite along. Except, he’s not a complete stranger, he’s Jess, the same person she feels like she’s known for the longest time, the same one who feels at complete ease whenever they hang out. 

“I… I met someone— a guy. His name is Jess… We… We kept seeing each other everywhere we went and… I don’t know, somehow it just kept happening and we hung out a couple times… I asked him to come with me.” She sighs. How is she going to explain all of this to her mother, she’s got no idea. She’ll probably think Jess is some sort of serial killer. 

Lane’s reaction is loud, and Rory has to hold her phone away from her face for a second in order to not go deaf from Lane’s excited squealing. “A boy. Oh my God, you’re traveling with a boy! What is he like?”

“He… He’s okay. He loves to read, and he’s got a good taste in music— I think. We’re still getting to know each other but… He’s really good, Lane. We get along so well, it’s as if we’ve known each other for the longest time and… I don’t know, there’s something about having someone like that around that’s just so… Exciting.” She doesn’t notice the huge grin that has spread across her face until Lane pulls her back to reality. “That’s so cool! And he’s not a freak or anything, right?” she asks. 

“I— I haven’t really given it much thought… I just… It feels right.” She feels embarrassed. Of course she hasn’t really thought about it, but Jess doesn’t look like the freak type. Or does he? 

“It’s okay, Rory. If you feel like he’s a good guy, he probably is. Just… be careful, alright? And I know you’re going to freak out over this whole talk, don’t. Now tell me, is he cute?” she’s back to being her curious, excited self, and Rory can’t help but chuckle, still a slight worry creeping inside her. 

“What? I don’t notice that sort of thing.” She laughs nervously, as she bites lightly on her finger nail. Her friend remains quite on the other line, and Rory can’t take it in. “He… I don’t know, I guess he is”, she lies. “You’re using your lying tone.” Lane remarks. 

“I don’t have a _lying tone_ ” Rory frowns. “Yes, you do! Your voice gets all low and you try to act as if nothing’s going on, and when you get caught it gets all squeaky and fast.” She does know her a bit too well. After all, they’ve been friends for almost fifteen years. 

Rory lets out a sigh and accepts the fact that she’s going to have to say the truth. “Yes, he is cute. _Really_ cute. Maybe even hot, but… We’ve just met each other, it really doesn’t matter. We’re still figuring everything out and…” she stops talking, doesn’t know what to say, anyways. So she thinks Jess is really cute, that’s not a big deal. Except it does matter a bit, specially for Lane, who doesn’t say anything else about it, instead asks about the places they’ve visited and the things they’ve done, but knows so much better, notices how Rory won’t stop mentioning the nice things Jess does ( _you can have it, it’s a reread anyways; I got this for you yesterday; it’s okay, I’ll go get you ice-cream, it’s like 11pm but I don’t mind; here, have this sweater; I’ll get you anything for dinner; we can have our own fun here_ ), and knows there’s so much more to it than them being two people who bumped into each other when they were trying to find _themselves_ , but all of it, maybe (just maybe), being about two people claiming to be looking for themselves and finding each other instead, somehow, anyhow. 

Their call keeps going for couple more minutes, before Lane has to go in order to fix some sort of mess Brian and Zach have managed to come up with. It’s also not long until Jess comes back, handing Rory a plastic bag filled with snacks. 

“I didn’t know what you’d want, so I pretty much brought one of everything.” He hesitates as he sits down next to Rory and pulls out a bag of chips, ripping it open. “I was thinking we could watch a movie or something.” But she doesn’t reply, is too busy thinking about everything Lane said. 

“Are you a good person, Jess?” she asks. It’s a silly question ( _the silliest),_ but there’s something about actually asking it, having him answer, that she’s really curious about. 

“What?” Jess asks surprised as he pulls out another chip, stops mid-action. 

“I want you to be good.” Rory’s voice trembles a bit. He doesn’t understand, doesn’t know where it comes from, and simply stares for a second before swallowing hard and nodding. “I— I am. Where does this come from?” 

“I— I just… I mean—“, she takes a deep breath before going on, “We don’t really know each other and…”

“And you’re worried about me, wondering if you made the right decision.” His voice is deep, and it makes Rory slightly shiver. He’s not angry, but a bit hurt by said statement. He _knows_ he’s not the easiest person to trust, but also really wanted to believe Rory did trust him. 

“Yes. I’m sorry. I just… I hadn’t thought about it until my friend mentioned it and I… It doesn’t matter.” Her tone becomes determined all out of sudden, as she lifts her chin confidently. “I trust you, Jess. I know you’re good. I just… Do.” she smiles sincerely, and Jess can’t help but feel his heart shrink as she does. He knows she counts on him, knows she actually believes in him, and can’t really understand it. How is it possible that a girl he’s not even known for a whole week is the first person to believe in him? He’s quiet, staring at her, can’t quite make up the words. “Let’s watch the movie.” She says once she notices he doesn’t know what to say — and she’s okay with it, knows all that mattered was for her to let him know how much she actually trusts him, but also notices how hard of a time he’s having thinking of an answer and lets it go.

Some bad rom-com plays in a motel room in Syracuse as Luke Danes leaves a message for Lorelai Gilmore from his new cellphone. He’s in his truck, driving to Maine because his sister got in some sort of weird accident which involves broken legs and broken arms and a Renaissance fair and an apple doll booth. He doesn’t know how long he’ll be gone for, neither does he know what he may find out once he’s with his sister in Maine, and what awaits for him there ( _spoiler alert: it’s lots of people wearing tights, an annoying TJ and a discovery on a family member's whereabouts),_ but in true Luke fashion, is committed to go help anyways. 

It’s later that night when Lorelai Gilmore gets back home tired and listens to Luke Danes’ five rambling messages and begins missing him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here's the chapter! I was about to post the next one when I realized I hadn't posted this, heh! It's really short, but I'll make it up to you :) Anyways, it probably took me all of last week, but I've finally finished planning the whole route and therefore, the whole fic! It's going to be 50 chapters long and I'm so excited! The ideas for the next couple chapters came flooding and I can't wait to share them all with you.  
> Also, thank you so much for all of your sweet comments and support in the past chapters, as always it means a lot to me. I hope you've enjoyed this one, and I'll see you very, very soon... ;)


	7. it's freedom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jess takes Rory to one of his favorite places, then comes up with another surprise plan. Luke learns about the whereabouts of his nephew.

There’s a knock on the door, and Rory quickly moves to open it with a big smile. 

“Someone’s happy today.” Jess smiles down at her, as Rory moves aside to let him in.

“I’m just really excited.” She replies, closing the door behind her and walking towards the small bed in the center of the room, where her suitcase lies open. Jess sits on the edge of the bed staring at her, as she folds a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt and puts them back into the navy blue suitcase. 

“Good. There’s not really a plan for what we’re doing today but… Where we’re going, you’re really going to like it.” He nods at her, but evades eye contact the moment she looks at him. He is nervous and it shows, how he taps his fingers on his knee and bites the inside of his cheek. Truth is, he is quite anxious about today’s destination, what Rory may think about it, that there’s still a chance she could hate it. He is soon proved wrong, but the way it happens is not really what he had in mind. 

“I am sure, I’ve never been to Niagara.” Rory says absentmindedly, as she walks into the tiny bathroom to pick up a few things she left in there. “What?” Jess’ voice slightly breaks, as he looks up searching for Rory. In the bathroom, Rory shuts her eyes closed tightly and bites her lip, realizing about her mistake. 

“What?” she repeats as she walks out of the bathroom, holding her toothbrush and toothpaste in one hand. Her tone is surprised, as if she hadn’t noticed what just happened. 

“You mentioned the Niagara Falls. How did you know?” Jess frowns, and stares at his lap for a second, clearly disappointed. He wanted it to be a huge surprise for Rory, but it is clearly ruined now. Taking a deep breath, Rory reaches for the guidebook he gave her the previous day and hands it to him. “You can’t help writing on the margins. I read the Niagara entry”, she almost whispers. Jess lets out a chuckle, closing his eyes and running a hand through his hair. 

“Of course I did.” He shakes his head, sighing. “It was supposed to be a surprise.” He says quietly. 

Jess had first been to the Niagara Falls when he was eleven and one of his friends’ parents invited him and a couple other kids to join them on their trip during the summer. The other kids’ mothers hadn’t agreed, but of course Liz did. He hadn’t even found it necessary to ask for permission; he’d let her know the night before that he was going and she simply nodded, then went into the kitchen and started telling the story of the time she met some guy who owned a hotel near the Falls and lost it during a bet in a bar.

Their trip to the falls lasted two days and Jess hand’t cared for much of it, but once at their destination, he felt quite amused. He had never been to a place like it —his existence was pretty much limited to the city and the multiple neighborhoods they lived in—, and for the first time, he felt free, except he did not know that’s what what he was feeling was called. He did not feel overly happy, or excited, but free. He wrote down how it felt a couple days later when he was back home. He felt it again several times after that, when he started sneaking out of the different buildings his mother and him lived at or every time he skipped school to wander around the city on his own. 

Ever since then, he had been to the falls a second time, when he was eighteen and was going after his father to California. This time he had been able to put a name on what he felt during his first time there —knew it was called _freedom_ and that he would seek it frequently, maybe even for the rest of his life—, but felt disappointed to realize it was now replaced by a growing fear, the anxiety of actually having met his father days prior when he visited him at the bookstore café he used to work at. 

Now, things are different. Jess isn’t eleven and experiencing freedom for the very first time, nor is he running after his absent father to California to spend two months sleeping in his living room and working at a bookstore on the boardwalk of Venice Beach during the summer. Now, Jess is nineteen and traveling wherever he wants with a girl he met earlier in the week. Now, Jess is nineteen and hoping that if he takes Rory to the Niagara Falls, she’ll experience the same feeling he felt on his first time there. 

He is lost in thought, as Rory stands close, staring down at him. She didn’t mean to ruin Jess’ surprise —he knows it too—, but she can clearly notice how important it was for him. “It was a surprise.” She says, bumping her knee softly against his.

“Yeah?” He looks up at her, raising his eyebrows. “Yes. I can also reenact my surprised look once we get there if you want me to”, Rory offers, making Jess chuckle. 

“You’re not a _great_ actress.” He laughs softly, making Rory scoff. “Last night, when you didn’t like the movie I suggested we watch, I could clearly see you were lying,” he says, standing up and placing the guidebook on the bed.

“Aw, was it because of the _blinky thing_?” she frowns.

“The what?” he lets out a chuckle. 

“My mom says I do this blinky things whenever I lie.” Rory rolls her eyes, as if it were obvious. Jess, who is staring at her from the doorway shakes his head and gently at Rory, even though she can’t see him as she picks up her things and places them inside her suitcase. “No, it wasn’t the _blinky thing_ ”, hereplies softly and leaves. 

Maybe the trip to the Niagara Falls isn’t a surprise anymore, but he knows Rory is most definitely going to enjoy it, and that’s enough. 

It’s also the early morning when Liz Danes wakes up and walks out of her trailer to find her brother setting up the small table. 

“Hey, big brother!” she says cheerfully and reaches to give him a quick side hug before pulling out a chair and carefully sitting down, placing her crutches by her side. 

“Hey Liz. I made some breakfast… Nothing big really, just some eggs and bacon, you know… I was surprised to find your mini-fridge so well stocked…” He wrinkles his nose, “I didn’t really expect you to buy the same brands I do. It’s a family thing— I don’t know.” He shrugs halfway throughout the sentence. 

“Oh, yeah, Jess got all of those for me on Tuesday.” _So that’s why_. Liz shrugs as if it’s nothing, takes a sip of the glass of orange juice Luke has placed in from of her.Meanwhile, Luke has stopped on his tracks and stares at her, seemingly surprised. 

“Jess? Your son?” _This is Luke freaking out_. “The same one I asked you about last night, to which you replied _oh, I have no idea where he is, but he’s just fine_? He’s here? In Maine?” He raises his voice, but Liz remains unbothered as she eats her breakfast. 

“Relax, _big bro._ He was here a couple of days ago, I called him after the accident, he apparently was stuck in Portland, came down here, brought me some supplies, and then left again.” She takes another sip of juice. “Oh, he’s become such a wonderful man… Grew up a lot since I _sent him away._ ” 

“Hold on Liz. Is he in Portland now? Why isn’t he here with you?! I swear to God, that punk of yours—“ He stands up, starts ranting in the way only Luke Danes can do it. If Jess is indeed in Maine, Luke will make sure he comes back to his mother and helps her out. 

“Ofcourse he is not! He is… somewhere. Traveling. You know him, always on the move.” Yet again, she remains calmed, does not seem to care at all about his runaway son. “On the move? So, you have no idea where he is?!”

“I told him to go, Luke. He is almost twenty. He is an adult now, can go wherever he pleases, I did not want him to spend his entire summer looking over me. He’s a free soul, like his mother.” She smiles widely, but her face soon drops as she looks down at her plate. “Or his father…” she finishes quietly. 

_Unbelievable_ , Luke thinks. The way Liz could care less, the way Jess could care less… And TJ… TJ is yelling Luke’s name again. With a roll of his eyes, Luke walks into the trailer and helps out his brother-in-law (the fifth one, or maybe sixth… He’s lost count of them). But once this whole TJ “ _I can’t drink orange juice with pulp”_ drama is over, he is getting a hold of Jess and bringing him right back. 

“How are you feeling?” Jess asks as he makes his way back to Rory, who sits on a bench with her eyes closed. He hands her a water bottle and she grunts in acknowledgement. 

“Please don’t say you told me so. I won’t hear it.” She takes a sip of water slowly and sighs. 

“Ah, but I did. I said ‘ _Hey, stop with those spicy chips, you’re going to make yourself sick.’,_ to which you replied…” He comes to an abrupt stop once he sees Rory lean back on the bench and let out another grunt. “Do you want me to find us a hotel? So you can lay down?” 

“I’m okay. I just— I didn’t know we were going _on a boat_.”

So, Rory gets seasick (or boatsick?), Jess knows that now. However, he wishes to have known it earlier, before it completely ruined the day he had planned for them. He is deep in thought when suddenly, he feels Rory move closer and rest her head on his shoulder. _Okay, so maybe it’s not so bad._

“Give me five more minutes and I’ll be okay. I promise.” She speaks.

For Jess, however, it doesn’t feel like five minutes— it is more like two seconds. Apparently time passes three times faster when you don’t really want something to end, and just as he wishes to remain close to Rory for a couple more minutes, time’s up and she stands up with renewed energy. 

“Okay, let’s go.” She smiles as she reaches for Jess’ hand and pulls him up with her and starts walking. He doesn’t question Rory, but she still explains herself. “I want to take another look from the balcony.” 

They make their way through the people carefully, and Jess absentmindedly places his hand on the small of Rory’s back as they do so. Though he does not realize, Rory most definitely does, and ducks her head slightly for Jess not to notice the obvious scarlet blush that paints her cheeks. 

Thing is, Rory has no reason to feel this nervous around Jess. Sure, they have recently met and are new friends, but that’s not why she is feeling this self-conscious around him. Maybe it’s actually the fact that she may be cru— Rory’s thoughts are abruptly interrupted by the view in front of her. Although the first thing they had done when they arrived was stand right there, in that same spot, to look at the falls, there’s something different about the second time (hell, they’ve even taken a boat ride, seen the falls from up-close, but somehow, this moment right here means so much more). 

“I was thinking, for lunch, we—“ Jess begins, but soon stops as he looks over Rory, who sports the most genuine smile he has ever seen on her. She’s quiet, and her eyes shine with marvel. Simultaneously, Jess is wearing a similar look on his face as he stares as Rory. 

“This is…” she’s speechless once again. It’s the creeping feeling of happiness on her inside, the breath of fresh air, the knowing she gets to be here on her own (almost), and gets to do this for the next couple months. It’s the way she is where she wants to be, she gets to choose. It’s the way she’s feeling free. 

“Yeah, I know.” Jess replies breathlessly, without taking his eyes off her. It’s seeing Rory so happy, clearly feeling free. It’s him reaching his goal, being able to see her feel what he wanted her to. 

She takes a deep breath and turns her head to Jess. “Thank you.”

“You know you don’t have to…” he stops when he notices the look on Rory’s face; so happy, so thankful. “You’re welcome, Ror.” 

Neither of them speaks anymore, both staring at the water falling before them. For Rory it’s freedom being wherever she wants to, for Jess it is freedom showing Rory something that was only his, although she doesn’t know about it. 

“I didn’t notice! I thought she was just staring at me because she felt like it… I don’t know!” Rory explains in exasperation and Jess lets out a chuckle as they walk side by side. 

“Why would she have been staring at you with such hatred? You took her food!”

“Maybe she was just mad at my hair. Or maybe she owns the same sweater and she thought it was very unique but she saw me wear it and she was mad that it’s not that unique!” They reach the car and Jess scrambles for the keys. 

“Yeah. I bet it was the sweater.” He smiles as he unlocks it. “So… It’s time to go.” He says awkwardly. 

“It is.” Rory nods. “We can make it to Cleveland right after the sun sets.” 

For a second, Jess is deep in thought, staring at the keys on his hands. It’s been a good day, and he doesn’t want it to end. Why should it? A smirk appears on his face as he looks up at Rory and soon turns into a smile. Rory furrows her eyebrows and gives him a questioning look.“Do you have your passport?” he asks out of nowhere. 

“Wh—What?” Rory asks anxiously. 

“It doesn’t matter, I know you do.” He shrugs as he walks over to open the door for her. Rory is still staring at him in confusion and surprise. As Jess places a hand on her back and softly pushes her to the car, Rory turns to him and grabs his arms sternly. 

“Jess. Explain.” 

“We are going to Toronto. We can stay there, and—“

“You’re not serious.” She chuckles nervously. _Of course he is, it’s Jess_. 

“I know you know I am serious. Come on, it’s going to be fun.” 

“But it’s not part of the plan—“ she can’t stop laughing nervously. 

“Ah, but who needs a plan?” he points. _Rory does,_ he thinks. He takes a deep breathe and speaks again: “Come on, Ror. Please. We’ve had a good, improvised day. Think about all the fun we could have if we do this. You said you wanted freedom, this is it. It’s good to do spontaneous every once in a while, didn’t you want that?” he almost pleads. “Besides”, he adds, “if we do this, you are getting that book you wanted from my backpack last night.” This seems to get her attention and she raises an eyebrow at him. 

“You’re telling me, if we go there, you are letting me read the notes you’ve made on that?” 

“Yes ma’am.” 

“And you’re going to be completely fine with it.” She states, almost questioning him. “Positive.” He says with asingle nod. Rory seems to consider it for a second and he bites his lip, expectant. 

“Okay.” She surprises herself, but still nods at him. “Fine, we’re going. Being spontaneous and all that.” She says louder. 

Jess looks up in shock. “You’re serious?”

“I am. Let’s go!” She quickly gets into the car, leaving Jess standing next to it with amusement. It’s difficult when Jess has to get to know Rory while she is still doing it herself, but it’s working out well so far. 

Rory’s mind is a mess. She doesn’t really know what is going on. So this is how being spontaneous feels like? This rush of adrenaline that soon turns into anxiety? She has always been an overthinker, but right now it is really showing. So they’re going to Toronto. A city in another country. Sure enough, it’s a short ride, but what are they supposed to do there? Why are they even going? Is Jess running away from something? Using her so he can get out of the country? _Oh my God._

“Hey, you’re thinking too much. It’s nothing Rory. We’ll be back in a couple days and we can go on with your plan.” Jess assures her as he takes a quick glance at her. But she doesn’t reply. “We can go back now if you want to, really.” He says softly. 

Does she want to go back? They’re already on their way, and going back would be leaving something incomplete, and Rory Gilmore does not _ever_ leave things incomplete. _Never._ She also thinks about how well things have been going thanks to Jess, how much fun they’ve had, how well it’s turned out without following the main plan. Maybe it’s not so bad to ignore plans for a second. She thinks about the rush of adrenaline she felt half an hour ago, how good it was, and how good it can be, and so, she shakes her head and finds a reassuring smile for Jess. “No,” she takes a deep breath, “let’s be spontaneous.” 

So, they go to Toronto. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And I'm back (this time for sure)!!! I was struggling a lot with this, but we're finally here! I am so, so sorry for the long wait, but no more! The next chapter is one of my favorites on the whole fic, I'm so excited for you to read it!  
> Thank you for all your comments, subscriptions and for leaving kudos! I am so glad we're on this journey together <3  
> I hope you are having an excellent week, lots of love!  
> Z.


End file.
